


the night is an ocean (the stars are it's fleet)

by iwillwalk500miles



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Minor Character Death, POV Weiss Schnee, Politics, Ruby Rose (RWBY) Needs a Hug, Sad with a Happy Ending, Singer Weiss Schnee, Weddings, Weiss Schnee Needs a Hug, Weiss Schnee-centric, Weiss knows german, he and oscar have a lovely little farm together, it's hinted but not explicit, mentions of poly team CVFY, platonic or romantic between them you decide, the tags were bothering me so i fixed them, whitley is a poor gay child who didn't know any better, you can rip that headcannon from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-09-18 22:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 116,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillwalk500miles/pseuds/iwillwalk500miles
Summary: Weiss gets dumped and then sings at weddings to cope.(She also decides that fuck whatever her father did to the SDC she's building that shit from the ground up.)





	1. baby don't you know I suffer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss Schnee sings, and the whole world shivers.
> 
> The song is over quicker than she expected it to be. She bows, her mouth not moving unless it's to let loose a fierce swirl of lyrics, the crowd fading to gray before her very eyes. For a moment, she is seventeen again, at the last concert before she leaves for Beacon. She sees her family in the crowd, her father's cold blue eyes staring back at her, Whitley shivering with an emotion she doesn't recognize, Winter motionless, and the empty chair where her mother should be.

Weiss understood that it had been a long time coming. In retrospect, she should have seen it right away. "You're getting married?" She asked Velvet. "Congratulations?" Weiss trailed off. "I got the invite in the mail-- wait are you here because one of CCT administrators giving you a hard time again?" Her expression changes from jubilant to murderous. "Do you need me to go down there?"

"_No no no_\--" Velvet interrupted quickly. "--that's not it at all." She flushed a little, rabbit ears twitching awkwardly. "I was um... _actually_ hoping you'd do us a favor..." Velvet trailed off again.

"Whatever you need." Weiss said immediately, smiling openly.

"Can you sing for us?"

Weiss felt all the blood drain from her face.

Some background is probably necessary for all of this. When she was smaller, the name Schnee was not known only for the amount of products and businesses it's cultivated. If you typed the name Schnee in you nearest search engine, not only would you get articles on the SDC, but you would find videos upon videos of the Schnee children showcasing various talents.

You would find Winter, chilly eyes and cool expression, showcasing her battle strategy in things like professional games of chess and the various fencing competition.

You would find Whitley, hard gaze and mischievous smile, advanced research in things like Dust and company politics, participating in science competitions and using the cello.

Then, you would find Weiss, empty swirls of ice blue and a cold, aloof expression on her face. You'd click on the video and then you'd hear it, a sound like weeping angels as they fall from their home, slip away farther and faster from heaven. Believe it or not, she wasn't taking any liberties. Piper VonHameln (a very old man famous for his beautiful symphonies, and notorious for tearing down any and all musicians) openly wept at one of her concerts.

"Vat girl--" he sobbed, restricted by a thick accent that used to be referred to as German. "--vee angels schpeak zrough her, and vee are not worzy." He had insisted he be allowed to teach her in the ways of his craft, and her father had been all to happy to comply.

Weiss hadn't been very proud of herself at the time, Winter had long since warned her most praise would be fruitless and fake.

But Piper VonHameln spoke many languages, and faux was not one of them.

Years later, after Beacon but before the Maiden's War, she met him again.

He was laying in the streets of Atlas, singing in such a way that could only remind her of her grandfather. Her team had looked at him with sympathy, but had not known how to approach him. He was homeless in that way only citizens of the floating city could be. Windswept and red cheeked, soaked to the bone and skin weathered and pruned by the combination of wind and wet. There was no dust or dirt in Atlas, only oil and mist.

<_Hello_.> She had said in a language long dead, brushing past Red and Yellow, who watched her with wide eyes.

His weathered face snapped toward her. <_The angel of my symphonies returns to her gilded cage_.> He looked older and more tired than she'd ever seen him. <_What are you doing here child?_>

<_I could ask you the same._> She moved forwards propping him up. "Disgraceful." She said in the common tongue, her voice accented from the language she had spoken before. "How zee mighty fall."

"Um... Weiss? Do we have to do sensitivity training again?" Red asks.

"Relax." She brushed her off, a little too easily if she was being honest, but she supposed that was red flag number one. "Zis man vill not be offended."

Piper VonHameln smileed, and laughs with his body. "Vill das singen me a song?" He winked, emerald eyes shinning against his windswept face. <_An old man's last request?_>

<_If you accompany me to my home, I will sing every song you wish._> The language she speaks is rough and blunt, and if you knew not what the words meant, the sounds and the syllables would surround you, drowning you in their beauty. (At least, that's how RBY felt, eyes wide as they watched W care for a man discarded by high society.)

"Weiss?" Red asked.

"He vill vee comen vith us." Her words are still slurred in otherness, she clears her throat ignoring the sudden burning in her cheeks, adopting the accent she used in public once more. "No arguments." Her voice was firm, though pleading and desperate.

"Alrighty." Yellow cheered. "Our Weissy, being a good Samaritan!"

<_Hardly_.> Piper and Weiss say simultaneously.

She lifted him, their auras brushing together in familiarity.

"_Weiss_." He said, though it sounded like 'vice'. "Your aura! It has not altered in its colorink, and zet it feels so different." His dark blue eyes sparkle. "Hafe sie changed so much, girl?"

<_I cannot say_.> Honesty bleeded into her voice. "Zough I know nozink is zee same." She shoots him a look, glaring (she can't get the accent out of her words). "I can at least say zat your aura is as _veak_ as your musical talent."

"Baha." He snorted. <_Angel of beautiful song never change._>

"_Shush_." But Weiss remembered the smile on her face even five years later.

She's brought back to the present, brought from reminiscing the events that had lead to the last time she sang.

Velvet watched her with hesitant eyes.  
  
"What song?"  
  
She ignores her friend's relieved smile.

Weiss has to prepare herself. The wedding is in a month, and she had not sung a note since that night five years ago. The song Piper requested she sing not only to him, but to the rest of her team and JNR as well.

Piper VonHameln (because he didn't know how to mind his own business) watched the way she talked to her team leader.

She had been a fool.

<_That girl._> he said to her (in front of everyone) <_You love her, yeah?_>

She dropped her glass of water.

Thankfully the glass didn't shatter, but Weiss still ended up with her front drenched in her drink.

Piper laughed loudly, the sound of his happiness reverberating in the windows of the small house she had managed to get for them.

<_Asshole_!> she hissed, cheeks warming. "You can't just ask me a question like that!"

"Hey! You're talking normal again!" Yang cheers.

"I was shocked out of it." Weiss replied, before ignoring her and stomping her way toward her old mentor. "Piper what the _fuck_?"

"Piper?" He asked, withered hands brushing down his wrinkled old suit. "Vat happened to Mr. VonHameln?"

"What happened to minding your own business?!"

He teased her for the rest of his life, which admittedly, hadn't been much longer.

His death had temporarily destroyed her. 

Piper VonHameln had reminded her of her grandfather, and it was like living through his death all over again. Nicholas Schnee had been a good man, had made his name mean something, only for it to be meaningless in the end-- as Weiss' father drove the name into the ground. 

* * *

It griped at her jaw, molded and rough. She feels her aura wash over her, feels the notes and the sounds and the melody in her soul. Weiss closes her eyes, and for a moment she is somewhere else, someone else. Her voice goes higher and higher, perfect and emotional yet somehow not, raspy and soothing.

Weiss Schnee sings, and the whole world shivers.

She supposed at one time, she might have enjoyed the rush she got from standing on the stage, letting loose her complicated bouts of emotion through song. And she did for a while, sung with happiness when Piper conducted with her. But like most things she enjoyed, her father made it a perversion of it's formal self, twisting something she liked into something that would benefit him, and him alone.

The song is over quicker than she had expected it to be. She bows, her mouth not moving unless it's to let loose a fierce swirl of lyrics, the crowd fading to gray before her very eyes. For a moment, she is seventeen again, at the last concert before she leaves for Beacon. She sees her family in the crowd, her father's cold blue eyes staring back at her, Whitley shivering with an emotion she doesn't recognize, Winter motionless, and the empty chair where her mother should be.

She hopes team CVFY appreciated it.

"Thank you." Coco whispered as she passed.

Weiss nodded, wrapping herself in the short pale blue cape they insisted she wear. She was wearing a pure white dress, a backless silky smooth thing that Coco had picked out herself, pared with matching blue heels, her hair pulled into a lazy bun, strands of powdered snow falling to meet her neck and collarbones, windswept and elegant. She looked regal, royal like, one would say she looked simplistic, and very beautiful. The goosebumps on her skin tingle, climb all over her body in perfect pinpricks of cold.

She spends the rest of the evening sipping water, and wanting to go home.

"Weiss!" His voice startled her, though she does not allow herself to show it. She gives herself a moment to glance at him, shaggy blonde hair combed to the side, wearing an actual white buttoned up shirt instead of leaving his abs on display. She notices a sea blue rose tucked into his coat pocket, and smiled into her water filled wineglass.

"Sun." She responded, tone dull, disinterested. Though her eyes are alight with something bright and a little wild.

"I didn't know you sung at weddings now!" His voice is excited. "Neptune thought the song sounded beautiful, and I agreed with him-- though I was a little surprised by how sad it sounded."

"_Hmm_?" She raised a pale white eyebrow.

"Well it's a wedding, you know?" He laughed, tail flickering as the jubilant sound escaped his mouth.

She nodded a little, lowering her wineglass. "How is Neptune? Last I heard you two finally stopped dancing around each other."

Delight blooms in her chest when she sees Sun's blush.

"That good, then?" Weiss allows herself a tiny smirk.

"_Stooop_!" Sun moaned. "Everyone is saying stuff like that and I can't handle it without wanting to die!"

She snickered into her glass of water.

He groaned into his hands, tail drooping. "You're so mean, Weiss."

She juts out her chin, a fake haughty expression on her face. "Did you really expect anything else? Schnee's have standards you know, can't sound too nice without risking a scandal."

Sun laughed again, his grin making the chill in her chest thaw, ever so slightly. He was kind to approach her, she hadn't been so oblivious as to not notice the wide berth everyone gave her.

Amber eyes met hers, before averting their gaze.

A fresh wave of loathing warmed her skin, her bones relaxing in the fire of hatred that rested in her chest. It was too easy to relax into the odd looks and glares she received, she wondered if she was becoming a little more like her father with every stare. Her stomach lurched at the thought.

"Blake's being weird, huh?" Sun asked, noticing where her gaze lingered.

"No weirder than usual, I'm sure." She interjected smoothly, sipping her drink.

"Yeah... _no_." Sun said. "The second they announced your name she started acting kind of kooky... though at least _she_ stuck around to see you sing, Ruby and Yang bolted, though I'm pretty sure they listened through the doors."

Weiss laughed louder than she meant to. Sun smiled at the sound, hesitantly patting her shoulder. "I better go... Neptune just looked at me like I've done something horribly wrong."

She snickered into the palm of her hand. "It was nice seeing you again, Wukong."

His eyes lit up. "Hey... I know that something weird happened a while back, but you didn't lose everyone, okay? Velvet and Coco talk about you all the time, and I know Neptune and I miss you... so if you need anything, call?"

She blinked. "I... I will. The same can be said on my end, okay Sun?"

"In that case--" his boyish grin set her hair on end, "--Neptune's going to propose soon, he doesn't realize I know it yet, so I was just wondering when the time came... would you sing at our wedding?"

She blinked. This was the second time she'd been asked that question. It felt strange, but Weiss decided that chalking it up to coincidence wouldn't be uncalled for. After all, the first thing Sun had said to her was a comment pointing out how she 'sang at weddings now.' "...if Neptune would be okay with it, I can consider--"

Sun cheered loudly, wrapping her up in a hug and spinning her around happily. "_Yes yes yes! Thank you thank you thank you_!"

"Please put me down." She responded, hiding her smile. "I have a reputation to uphold, you know."

He did as told, jubilant expression not fading an ounce.

Sun looked up suddenly, his eyes meeting someone else's over her shoulder. "Ruby and Yang are back... little red is staring something _fierce_."

Weiss sighed, barely able to control herself from looking back. "Please don't do anything uncouth."

He, of course, ignored her. "Do you think she saw you hug me? Should you do it again?"

"Okay _first_ of all, _you_ hugged me--"

"Ooh we should like dance or something! That would make her stare even more--" He waved his arms around excitedly.

"_What_ are you doing, Wukong?" Weiss asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

His grin was positively roguish. "Isn't it obvious, Empress of Snow? I'm trying to be a wing man!"

"_Empress of Snow_...?" Weiss asked at the same time as someone else. She looked to her side, finding a blue haired man next to her. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, with yellow buttons sowed into the jacket, and a striped red and black tie. He looked handsome, with his hair slicked to the side and wavy, handsome... but far too much like a business man for her to be able to appreciate it.

"_Shush_ Neptune!" Sun stuck out his tongue, making Weiss roll her eyes at his childish expression. "I'm trying to enlist another bro right now!"

"A _bro_?" She mouthed, frown seeping into her expression.

The man next to her sighed, half exasperation half fondness. "Hey, snow angel."

"Sea king." She responded automatically. "Do me a favor and tell me what the _fuck_ your boyfriend thinks he's doing?"

Neptune winced.

"I'm wing-man-ing!" Sun interjected confidently, crossing his arms and winking. "Little Rubles over there is obviously hiding a raging lady boner for our very own snow angel, and Weiss isn't exactly _closeted_\--"

"--another word and you _die_\--"

"--_not_ to mention this is the perfect way to get Empress Schnee over here back in touch with her found family!" Sun grinned shooting Weiss and Neptune finger guns. "It's full proof, lads."

"It really isn't." The two sighed in unison.

Neptune moved to stand a little closer to Sun, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Come on man, even you have to notice it's gotta be more complicated than that."

The blonde faunus pouted.

His boyfriend sighed, and gestured for the former heiress to elaborate.

"Ruby _dumped_ me." Weiss said flatly. "There's absolutely _no_ reason for her to be anything but _disinterested_."

Sun blinked, visibly deflating. "But I _wanted_ to play match maker!"

"_Dude_!" Neptune hissed. "I thought we went over this stuff in sensitivity training!"

"That class doesn't work." Weiss and Sun said together, the latter with an excited giggle and the former while examining underneath her nails.

Neptune looked at them helplessly.

"What?" Weiss sneered, looking up to meet his cerulean eyes. "It's true! I'm a raging _bitch_ and Wukong _still_ doesn't pick up on social cues."

"Tis true." Sun said sadly, before getting distracted by one of the waiters serving mini burgers.

"You aren't a bitch." Another voice added. All three party members turned, only to face the shocked amber eyes of Blake Belladonna. 

Weiss felt something akin to pain flare up in her chest at the sight of her. Dressed in a pale gold gown, soft looking and kind, her hair pulled upward-- she almost looked like she had meant to say something to her directly. Like she wanted to apologize for something.

It hurt her more than she cared to admit.

"_Newsflash_, Belladonna, I was a bitch the entire time." Weiss snarked, averting her gaze and sipping on her glass of water.

"Tis true." Sun said again, voice muffled by the food in his mouth.

Neptune winced as crumbs began to fall on his suit jacket. "Babe-!" He moved his hands to his boyfriend's collar, brushing off the remnants of the mini food off. The blonde faunus grinned, cheeks still full, making him look a little like a chipmunk.

"Thanks." Weiss deadpanned, meeting the blonde's eyes. "A hero, truly."

Wukong, not noticing her sarcasm, offered her a mini burger. "Want one?" His voice was still muffled by the food. Clearing his throat he swallowed, a tiny burp escaping his mouth.

Weiss rolled her eyes and took one. She was pleasantly surprised when she popped it into her mouth.

<_These are good._> She mumbled in German. Sun wordlessly handed her another one, making Weiss smile at him, a little more indulgent than she had before.

"No problem, Empress of Snow." He winked.

Weiss scoffed, though nobody missed the tiny smile on her lips.

(That included a dark haired scythe wielder watching next to her sister on the other side of the reception hall.)

"Empress?" Blake asked Neptune, gaze steadily away from the direction Weiss stood.

"Don't you just love his nicknames?" The blue haired man sighed softly, a faraway and happy look on his face. "Not to mention it suits her." Neptune winked at the singer, making her roll her eyes even harder.

Blake blinked, her ears flickered toward the side of them. "Uh oh." She buried her head into her hands, sighing and looking like she wanted to hide somewhere. Weiss didn't have to be a genius to know who was coming.

"Hello people!" A louder voice greeted, "isn't this the most wonderful wedding?" Yang Xiao Long grinned, dragging a struggling Ruby Rose behind her. 

Yang was dressed in a royal purple gown, wrapped around her shoulders and exposing her collarbones. She looked beautiful, and had braided a blonde crown around her head, though did not compare at all to the spectacle that was Ruby Rose.

A pang of longing made Weiss look away and sip her water.

Of course Ruby looked beautiful, she always looked nice. Even in sweatpants, or her cape, or that one time she dressed up as a trash can for her birthday/Halloween.

The red and black dress reached just above her knees, showing long legs and exposing her shoulders. She had forgone her cape for the evening.

"I can feel the love in the water." Weiss deadpanned.

"Oh ho!" Sun grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Empress of Snow! Let's go dance!"

"If you stop calling me Empress I may consider it." Weiss grumped into her glass.

"Aw come on, Weiss." Sun pouted a little. "It suits you doesn't it? Much better than Ice Queen... cause you're _not_ icy! You're just, you know--" He gestured to her. "--a little _snowy_."

"Snowy?" She repeated, she frowned. Is this how Winter felt when men began to take liberties on the Schnee women's nick name? Though she supposed Empress was better than shit like 'Ice Cream.' "I suppose, though isn't chilly a bit more apt.?"

"_Nah_." Sun scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "You're a big softy, else you would have told me to go away a long time ago." He stuck out his arm, winking. "Now, wanna hit the dance floor?" 

She didn't really want to, but she also did not want to be left with her old team. Before she had a chance to make up her mind, a deep affronted gasp interrupted her thoughts. At the sight of Neptune's dramatics, she suddenly wished she could go home.

"What! _Dude_\--" Neptune placed a hand on his heart, Weiss hoped he would drag off Sun somewhere, if only she could fake a call from Whitley and begin her treak home-- except she noticed the downright mischievous glint in the other man's eyes. "--I thought she was going to dance with _me_ first!"

Her eye twitched. That would teach her to want things. As the men began to bicker, Weiss rolled her eyes, and balled the cape in her free hand.

"Here's a bright idea, _neither_\--" she began to seethe.

"That's a great idea, snow angel!" Neptune interjected before she could verbally decimate him.

"Yeah you'll just dance with us both!" Sun added, grinning. His arms were still wrapped around her shoulders. "Isn't she the smartest, bro?"

"Most brilliant, totally." Neptune nodded.

"You both are as thick as the--" Weiss started, only to be interrupted by the two gasping loudly.

"_Weiss_!" Neptune fanned himself. "Control yourself in public!"

"Yeah, Empress--" Sun shook his head. "--what will our friends think? _Flirting_ with us so shamelessly."

"I _will_ feed you both to a Grimm!" Weiss said, face reddening. "Do not think I _won't_\--"

"_Boo_!" Sun laughed. "Come on Weiss! We've eaten tiny hamburgers together! You're one of us." He dragged her in between him and Neptune, who wordlessly wrapped his arms around them both.

Ruby looked like someone had used Crescent Rose for scrap metal.

She sighed. "That's enough you two." Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. <_Don't think I haven't known what you've been doing._>

<_Sorry._> Neptune responded, his pronunciation a bit off, but she appreciated his effort.

"What he said!" Sun replied in the common tongue, he looked sheepish.

"You better be!" She glared for a moment, before allowing herself a small smile, ignoring the absolute stricken look on RBY's faces. "Now when were you going to tell me you've been learning German?"

"_Well_, a little birdy told me--"

"--_more like kitty_\--" Neptune coughed.

"--that you used to go off on tangents in this language nobody except a couple people could understand." Sun continued. <_Neptune, Velvet, and I've been taking lessons from Coco._>

"Of course you have." She smiled. "Though your pronunciation could use a bit of work."

"Yeah well your _face_ could use a bit of work." Sun quipped.

"_Wukong I swear to Oum_\--"

"You guys!" Neptune whined. "Sensitivity training!"

"The class doesn't work." Sun and Weiss repeated.

"Seriously man, it really does not help, like, at all." The blonde faunus said, he used his tail to grab two drinks, handing one to Weiss and sipping his own. "Like... all the teacher lady told me was to not be an asshole... and then she proceeded to be an asshole the entire time so I didn't know whether or not that was what we were supposed to be doing, or not supposed to be doing."

"Do I need to write this shit down for you?" She sneered, swirling the cherry cola Sun had given her. "I can. I can really right down this totally baseless amount of information for you."

Neptune pouted, his shoulders slumping.

She sighed, taking pity on him. "Raging bitch, _remember_? It's not just you who I'm a total bastard to."

"Tis true!" Sun replied enthusiastically.

"Why do I feel left out?" Yang stage whispered.

Weiss managed to control the retort on her lips by downing her cherry cola.

Neptune, who noticed her whitening knuckles, sighed. "At least you stopped yourself."

"She just set herself up to be devastated and you kept your mouth shut!" Sun looked in awe. "Dude! I'm so proud of you!"

Weiss felt her cheeks flush. "Shut up." She hid her face in the palm of her gloved hands.

"Okay. Now I'm definitely being left out." Yang said, she pouted a little, purple eyes flashing with an emotion unfamiliar to Weiss.

"Not intentionally." She said. "Apparently I have more in common with dunce one and two over here than I previously thought."

"Tis true!" Sun and Neptune sang together, before high fiving each other and giving Weiss each a kiss on the cheek.

She blinked, but ultimately brushed it off. Atlesian politics had always been constant in that of strange encounters, she'd learned to roll with it.

Her old team gaped, though Blake and Ruby were better at hiding their surprise.

Yang on the other hand, was not. "Is this a thing?"

"A thing?" Weiss drawled.  
  
"Yeah you know--" the blonde made a crude hand gesture.

"Yang!" Ruby and Blake reprimanded.  
  
Weiss stared. That... that actually explained a lot. "Sun... Neptune..." she started. "You're both _so_ dead."

"_Whaaat_?" The monkey faunus started. "What did I do? It was Neptune's idea!" He pointed at his boyfriend.

"It was _not_\--" The blue haired man protested. "--_you're_ the one who wanted Weiss to be a bro!"

"You _agreed_ though!"

"It was _your_ plan!"

"_You_ should know better than to listen to my ideas by now!"

"Enough the both of you." Weiss glared, rubbing at her temple. "For fucks sake, you're giving me a headache."

The two men smiled apologetically.

"So... was that a no?" Blake asked.

Weiss sneered. "Please. I have some class."

Sun and Neptune pouted.

She waved a dismissive hand. Opening her mouth to speak, when her scroll began to vibrate. Weiss looked at the collar ID and rolled her eyes, sighing. "I have to take this--" she pointed an accusatory finger at the two men. "--don't do anything stupid."

They saluted her.

Weiss walked off, answering the call and keeping her posture straight.

"What is it, younger boy child?" She asked.

"I'm _twenty_." Whitley said, sounding far too done with the world. "I'm twenty years old Weiss."

"What is it, younger boy child?" She asked again, more force this time.

"_Sister_\-- you know what, whatever." She heard him sigh over the scroll call. "I'm calling to inform you that it's your turn to run the company, preferably in the next hour."

"_Whitley_..." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "_No_."

"Mother said it's my turn playing commoner." He sounded petulant.

"_What_?! No she did _not_\--" Weiss glared at the floor, confidence in Willow temporarily shaken. "--and even if she did she still loves me more."

"She does _not_!"

"She does _too_!"

"Ugh I _hate_ you!" He screeched into the phone. "You're already in Atlas! Just fucking run it like the co-chair that you are!"

"_Bitch boy_, I'm at a wedding right now!"

"Then remove yourself from the wedding, and go do some shit-- go to work you fucking--" He was cut off by an audible struggle.

"Shitley?" She asked. "Are you being murdered?" 

"Hey Weiss!" Another man's voice answered instead of her brother's. "It's me, uh, Oscar!"

"_Oh_!" There was much more enthusiasm in her voice. "How are you? I thought you were occupied running your aunt's farm."

"I mean... I have been, but it was overrun by some Grimm not too long ago, so we left." Oscar said. "I was just going to get an apartment and do some free lance hunter work till we could afford another place to live, but when Whitley found out about it-- well, he sort of bought us a fancy ranch."

Weiss nearly dropped her phone.

"He _what_?"

She heard the sound of her brother screaming on the other side of the call.

"Oh... was I _not_ supposed to tell her that?" Oscar said. "Sorry Ley."

Weiss heard more indistinguishable screaming. 

"I don't know why she'd mind!" Oscar protested. "When she and Ruby were dating she bought that bakery off of third street--"

"_Oscar_!" She screeched into the phone.

"Oh... was I _not_ supposed to tell him that?"

"No you weren't supposed to tell him that!" She groaned into her hand. "Oh god... this is almost as bad as that time Winter bought Qrow's favorite brewery to spit him... unfortunately it was also mother's favorite... I don't think I have to explain how badly that went."

"_Yikes_." Oscar said. "Yeah okay... so anyway I was wondering if you could take on the company a little early this month? I know you're busy, but I wanted Whitely to come with me so he could meet my aunt and stuff..."

Weiss found a long time ago that she was physically incapable of saying _'no'_ to Oscar Pine.

"Fine." She huffed. "But tell Whitley he's a little bitch." She hung up the scroll before he could respond.

On the Brightside of things, now she could leave the wedding. She had a proper reason that didn't include the statement, 'because I want to.' She walked back to where she left Sun and Neptune, still talking to her old team.

"Hey-o, Empress of Snow!" Sun greeted when he noticed her, arms wrapped around his head. "Ready for that dance?"

She sighed. "I have to go, _unfortunately_."

He pouted. "Aw what? _Boo_."

"What happened?" Neptune asked, "You looked pretty angry earlier."

Weiss grit her teeth, ignoring Blake's knowing look.

"Just..." She ran a hand through her hair, undoing the bun. "Whitley decided to take an early vacation, is all."

Neptune winced. "Running off with Oscar again?"

"He bought him a ranch." She complained. "_Again_."

"_Yikes_." Yang said. "What are you going to do about it?" 

Weiss blinked, she'd forgotten she was there. "Nothing." She said, she looked down at her gloved hands. "I used to shirk my responsibilities too." She smiled, a little fond. "He'll get better at it eventually."

Yang frowned, Blake sighing softly. 

Ruby looked tired.

You didn't have to be a genius to know what Weiss had been talking about.

"I'll see you two later." She smiled at Sun and Neptune. She looked at the monkey faunus. "It better not be a terrible song."

He grinned.

She walked away, heading to say goodbye to team CVFY, all while ignoring the glances Ruby shot her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm working on being more descriptive also... german accents... so hard... to write...… rip


	2. opera house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She felt her heart stutter at the sudden change, listening to the former heiress sing in a way that she could understand, Blake wondered briefly if time had collapsed on itself, a portal to an alternate universe forming underneath her when she hadn't noticed, swallowing her up soundlessly and sending her into a world where she understood. In this alternate universe, what would have changed? Would Blake still be in contact with her friend? Would she finally have discovered the words of that dead language, the ones that only the oldest families in Atlas had seemed to know? Or would Weiss had sung the entire song in common, shedding all mystery and laying herself bare for the benefit of someone else, and not minding it at all?
> 
> or
> 
> If Blake could say one thing, it would be sorry.

Blake couldn't say she had been surprised. In all honesty, if things had ended the way they did between her and Yang the way it did between Weiss and Ruby, she couldn't guarantee that she could handle it as tastefully as the former heiress had. The admiration of her former teammate ended there, as the sting of being ignored from someone she had considered close family had yet to numb. She didn't like being alone.

Yang had ran after a disgruntled Ruby and left her with team SSSN and JNPR who, while they were close friends, knew nothing of the situation between the former partners. Jaune, who had become a tad bit more savvy than in his Beacon days, wisely decided _not_ to comment on it. Pyrrha, Nora and Ren followed suit, though Blake did not miss the tossing of surprised looks they shot each other. Sage and Scarlet (who Blake didn't really know well enough to talk to) also exchanged curious glances. Sun and Neptune on the other hand, had a hard lines indented into their faces, disapproving and mournful eyes that had followed Ruby and Yang all the way outside. 

Blake wondered if Weiss had told them.

She wondered what Coco and Velvet were thinking when they had asked Weiss to sing, Blake didn't think that they would use their wedding as an excuse to get Weiss into the same room as all of them. Surely Yatsuhasi would have protested, and Fox (though he liked a joke) wasn't the type to purposely cause his friends an active amount of distress.

The faunus sipped her champagne, watching Weiss Schnee sing in a language long dead.

Blake suddenly wished she'd been able to learn, her gaze flickering to Coco, who no doubt was fluent. She was nodding along, mouthing the lyrics into Velvet's ears, the mournful notes offsetting the newly weds brilliant smiles. 

Weiss moved with grace, lifting her chin and gazing across the crowd, singing to people who weren't there. 

Blake had a feeling she knew who she saw, there was a look to her that only meant one thing, family. Her eyes drifted from Weiss to the doors that led outside the venue, where Yang and Ruby were no doubt listening to the song through the doors. 

Glancing down at her scroll and frowning, she carefully typed a message to Yang.

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_is Ruby ok?_

_ **yang xiao bong** _

_will be... did u know ice queen would be here???_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_I didn't know she'd be singing..._

_…though I did have a feeling she'd attend, Velvet and Coco do adore her, you know._

** _yang xiao bong_ **

:(((((

_y didn't you tell meeeeeee!!!!_

_we coudve been prepared!!!!! and like... u know, figure out away to make up with her or at least a way to be civil_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_I figured you knew._

_Weiss is never not civil Yang... she probably just won't talk to us much... don't expect a greeting or anything_

_I also thought I told you to stop using emojis_

** _yang xiao bong_ **

_ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_Stop._

** _yang xiao bong_ **

_(¬‿¬)_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_aren't you supposed to be comforting Ruby?_

** _yang xiao bong_ **

_…she kinda just needed a min to breathe... which is a mood tbh... i kinda need one 2_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_her song kind of does that, doesn't it?_

** _yang xiao bong_ **

_...yea... it reminds me of the song she sang for Pyrrha.... until she was found in that bunker and everyone went through about three stages of disbelief _

_rubles is okay now... doesn't want to go in till the song's over tho_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_tell her i'm here if she needs anything_

** _yang xiao bong_ **

_ily <3_

** _blake bellabooty_ **

_I love you too_

Blake felt something in her chest tighten, and looked up at the stage once more, watching Weiss sing something that only she and a few others could ever possibly understand. The moment that she felt the song about to end, the moment the thunderous beats and soft strings began to slow, the moment the faunus believed that her old friend would stop-- Weiss' voice changed. Instead of the dead language, she was suddenly singing in common, the lyrics identifiable and wonderous, low and beautiful. 

She felt her heart stutter at the sudden change, listening to the former heiress sing in a way that she could understand, Blake wondered briefly if time had collapsed on itself, a portal to an alternate universe forming underneath her when she hadn't noticed, swallowing her up soundlessly and sending her into a world where she understood. In this alternate universe, what would have changed? Would Blake still be in contact with her friend? Would she finally have discovered the words of that dead language, the ones that only the oldest families in Atlas had seemed to know? Or would Weiss had sung the entire song in common, shedding all mystery and laying herself bare for the benefit of someone else, and not minding it at all?

Would Ruby and Weiss still be together? Would love have been enough?

For a moment, it felt as though she had all the answers, every single question she'd ever had bordered on solved, every mystery unraveled.

And then... the feeling passed, leaving Blake with slightly dilated eyes and a racing heart.

If Blake could say anything, it would be sorry.

_I'm going to make this better._ She thought as soon as her head cleared, amber eyes watching as Weiss Schnee bowed, movements elegant and enchanting.

_I'm going to make this better._ She thought again as her eyes met the glaciers that used to be warm and welcoming, but now were cold and calculating.

_I'm going to make this better._ She thought as she stumbled her way through the conversation, saying all the wrong things and noticing the way that Weiss practically ignored her existence.

_I'm going to make this better. _She thought, ears flattening to her skull as Yang dragged Ruby forward.

_Somehow._ She thought as Weiss spoke into the phone. _Someway, I will make this better._

* * *

Weiss couldn't say she was surprised. "He asked then?"

Sun deflated, pouting.

The two were sitting across from each other at a homey café, idly drinking tea and eating small slices of cake in front of the barista's counter and surrounded by potted plants and comfy furniture like couches. Sun had been surprised when he had recommended tea and Weiss had agreed to try it, his eyes sparkling in triumph until she revealed why.

(Weiss didn't drink coffee anymore.)

Still, somehow his smile had only retreated for a single moment, his face becoming jubilant once more. "You aren't supposed to say that!" He whined, pretending to glare at her. "You're supposed to go, ooh Sun how was it? Ooh Sun, how pretty is the ring? Ooh Sun--"

"Wukong." She leaned her cheek onto the palm of one of her gloved hands. "I thought we established I don't care about any of that?"

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well you should... considering you're going to be singing at the wedding."

Weiss winced. It wasn't like she had forgotten what she had said she would do, but that didn't mean she liked to think about it. In truth, the words she'd spoken, "It better not be a terrible song." Had escaped her mouth with little to no real conviction, something she had scolded herself for later on. After all, she was the co-chair of the Schnee Dust Company, she should have known better than to say something like that.

She knew now though that she couldn't take back the statement, not when Sun was looking at her like _that_, like some sort of puppy. (She loved dogs, okay? If it weren't for the company she'd probably have about thirty of them.)

"What song, Wukong?" 

"You know that song you sung?" Sun asked after a moment. "Mirror, mirror... but like the second one?"

Weiss stiffened. She knew exactly which one he was talking about, why bring it up when they were discussing Sun's future wedding, where a _romantic_ song should be sung, she had no clue. "Yes."

"You wrote it when you had planned--"

"Sun." She interrupted. "Where are you going with this?"

He looked strangely sheepish. "I just... I just want to help, Empress of Snow."

Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know you do."

Her scroll makes a sound, she checks it-- only to sneer and silence it.

"Your brother?" Sun asked, tilting his head. "Don't tell me he wants you to take the reins early _again_." Whitley had been shirking his responsibilities more lately, something Weiss had noticed with great reluctance. She didn't want to have to discuss the issue with him, and possibly place a leash upon the little happiness he seemed to have spending time with the Pine family.

"No." She said, looking at the picture on her phone as it silently rings. "Someone I couldn't be bothered to talk to right now." Weiss Schnee didn't like confrontation, especially of the emotional kind. 

He tilted his head a little, shaggy blonde hair falling into his face, before he brushed it out of the way. He quirked his lips a little when the phone started to ring again, only for the former heiress to repeat the motion once more.

"You don't _honestly_ want me to sing that song at your wedding do you?" Weiss asked, running her hands through her long hair. She had stopped putting it into her old signature asymmetrical pony tail, looking professional had become a must for her, and eventually she had could only leave it down or put it in a Winter-eques bun. "It's not a very happy one."

"Well..." Sun absentmindedly slurped on his tea. "...It's about hope, right?"

She smiled a little, fondness shining through her cold eyes. "Somewhat..."

He tilted his head. "And..." He furrowed his brow, thinking. "...maybe self-worth?"

She nodded.

"What about the first one?" Sun asked. "The one you came out with before you joined Beacon?"

Her face went stony. "Was it not obvious?"

He hummed, licking at his frosting covered fingers. "Maybe not." His grin was positively roughish. "But I'd like to hear it in your own words, if you'd be willing to tell me."

Weiss said nothing, her phone ringing again. She silenced it, she was beginning to become annoyed at the persistence.

"I..." She looked down at her hands, bare knuckled and gripping onto her pale blue dress shirt. "I was afraid when I wrote it." She looked back up at him. "That's the most you'll get out of me, Wukong." Her phone rang again, this time (not bothering to hid her sneer) she violently set it to silent.

"Are you sure you don't want to get that, Empress of Snow?" Sun looked oddly speculative, and for a moment she wondered if he knew who it had been.

She considered his suggestion, looking down at her ringing scroll. "I... No." Weiss stated firmly. "I don't think I do."

Sun nodded, something in his eyes making her feel as though he didn't believe her. It made it hard to really look at him, and for a moment she wondered if that was his intention. Eventually he shrugged, his easy going smile reappearing on his face, yet she couldn't quite get the sight of how he had looked before out of her mind. Lips downturned, teeth prodding his lips, his brows had been furrowed and focused, eyes like liquid lightning the way they had pierced through her. She knew that Sun had have been chosen as his team leader for a reason besides his natural charisma. Distantly, she wondered if she had just caught a glimpse of the man that Neptune had fallen in love with.

She didn't know how to feel about that, seeing something she felt wasn't meant for her eyes.

Weiss looked down at her scroll once more. "I... fine." She glared. "But I'm not going to make it easy for her."

Sun laughed out loud, the wondrous sound reverberating around her skull, reminding her of the loud crash of the percussions that Piper had used to make her listen to. "You don't have to let them waltz back in, Empress of Snow." His voice was gentle somehow, despite the rush of blood that made everything sound like someone had set a fire cracker right next to her ears.

"Right." She smiled, a bloodthirsty and cruel thing. 

For a moment, through Sun's eyes, she looked more like her father than she ever had before.

"I'm in an important meeting, _what do you_ _want_?" She snapped out.

Sun choked on his tea, coughing.

"_Oh_!" Blake Belladonna said. "I'm so sorry." Her voice was sheepish and filled with distress. "Um... I can call you later?" She sounded hopeful, and far too guilty for the former heiress' state of mind.

"You might as well tell me whatever it was you needed," she sniffed, "I doubt I'll have much free time in the coming days." Her voice barely bordered on hostile.

(Across from her, Sun was failing to hide his laughter, though he did do his best to look properly chastising.)

"Right." The woman on the phone seemed to calm down, her tone and voice becoming what reminded Weiss of a water fall. "I just... Listen, I want to talk to you, _like_\-- like before."

"_Before_." Weiss spits venomously, she feels something rabid and angry fill her entire being, her aura causing the temperature in the café to drop. Sun reached out immediately, placing a hand on her free one. She stiffened, so surprised by the small act of affection that for a moment she forgot about being hateful. Her friend's hand was warm and a little rougher than she was used to, she noticed some callouses on his hand from wielding weapons, she wondered why his aura hadn't healed them, only to realize that he must have got them before it was unlocked.

It was nice, being reminded of togetherness in a field of sorrow and isolation.

(That and it stopped her from freezing the entirety of the café.)

"Weiss." Blake said, getting her attention away from Sun's hand in hers. "There's nothing I can say to you that will make what happened okay."

"Then why _bother_ calling?" She snapped back, it was childish, but she was so tired of being civil, so tired of having to be the perfectly composed unflappable business woman she had been forced to become.

"It's because you _were_\-- you _are_, important to me." The faunus responded immediately. "And if Yang were here she'd say the exact same thing." A sound was made on the other side of the call, and for a moment Weiss wondered if Blake was crying. "I love you; you are and always will be my teammate, and if you don't want to see me ever again you won't have too, but I'd never be able to forgive myself if I didn't take the chance..." Blake sniffled. "Well, right after Sun and Neptune's wedding anyway. I got the invite in the mail this morning."

Weiss looked across from her, meeting Sun's eyes. He nodded at her, silently encouraging, and squeezed her hand. She tapped his palm with her fingers, a silent plea for him to let go. Sun obeyed, brushing his hand with hers one last time before pulling away. The man really was kind.

"He told me about it." She said. "I'm going to sing."

A flutter of muffled nose from the other side of the call, as though Blake had been tackled or dropped her phone. 

"Hello?" Weiss asked.

"Ice Queen!" A familiar voice exclaimed jubilantly. "Did I just hear something about you singing?"

"…_Nora_?" She questioned. Sun, who had been sipping his tea, raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"You know it!" She replied. "So you're gonna sing for us, huh? That's so _rad_!" Nora cheered loudly. "When you showed up at that wedding for Velvet and Coco it was like a kick out of left field, nobody knew it was coming, not a single person! Ren thought it was a nice surprise, and Pyrrha thought you had a lovely voice, but only Jaune and I knew what it really meant-- You're probably going to be back with us for a while, huh?"

Weiss blinked. "Yes... I suppose I will at least be visiting, make no mistake, I will not cater to your pancake obsession like Ren does."

"_Awesome_!" She crowed. "And also that's totally not fair, you could probably buy like fifty different pancake companies! Oh well, it doesn't matter, Ren makes the best ones anyway-- Are you still hunting? We could make it a group thing-- JNPR plus Weiss! Where would the W go though? We should make a list or something, imagine the amount of cool team names we could do! Maybe I should ask Ruby, she always better at the name thing-- give me a minute, I'm going to go ask her--" A scrambling sound in the background, and a sound that could only be Blake protesting.

Had she not told Ruby or Yang that she had decided to call?

Weiss didn't know whether to be flattered or disgusted. On one hand, she had called before Ruby or Yang could even begin to protest, but on the other she wasn't quite keen on being a dirty little secret. 

"…Hello?" She voiced hesitantly.

"Shush Ice Queen I'm asking Ruby a question-- _Rubles_!" Was the response.

"Can you give Blake the scroll back maybe?" Weiss couldn't stop herself from sounding hopeful.

"I told you to shush! Why won't you listen to me?" Nora sounded mournful, before yelling out: "_Rubles_! Hurry up! I need your naming expertise!"

"_Nora_\--" Weiss began to protest, panic beginning to bubble up in her chest. She looked at Sun helplessly, covering up the scroll and shooting him a look. "What do I do?!"

"Woah there, Empress of Snow." Sun placed his hands up, gesturing calmly. "What's happening?"

"She's getting _Ruby_!"

"What the _fuck_!?" He began to panic. He dropped his tea cup, "Stop her-- I am not ready for that yet!"

Weiss shot him an incredulous look. "_I'm_ the one who was dumped-- why, _exactly_, are you freaking out?"

He ignored her, taking big gulps of air as he began to hyperventilate. "Oh my _Oum_! What am I gonna say? Hey Ruby, wassup? No that's not good, _way_ too casual--"

"Shut up! Shut up!" She slapped at his shoulder. "Wukong, _stop_ talking--"

"Weiss?" A familiar voice asked.

She dropped her scroll. It clattered onto the table, nearly knocking over the plates. She gaped at the phone, barely acknowledging Sun (who at this point had received a paper bag from a kind barista and was breathing into it) and steadied herself as her hands began to shake. Weiss picked up the phone, clearing her throat.

"H-hello?" She couldn't quite stop her voice from wavering, hesitance bleeding into every action she made.

"Hey." Ruby Rose said, she wondered when the other woman started to sound so awkward around her. "Is that Sun with you?"

To her absolute mortification, Weiss realized that Ruby and whoever was there had heard part of the conversation she'd been having with the monkey faunus.

"I-- er… Yes, yes it was." She shifted in her seat, watching Wukong, who was still having a panic attack. Guilt edged at the ends of her consciousness. She stood, positioning the phone between the juncture of her shoulder and neck, before paying for the food, and helping him out of the café. Her friend heaved into this bag, his anxiety causing a chilly stab of fear to reach her heart.

She needed to hang up the phone. " Listen, we actually have something to discuss between us, so--"

"Me and you?" Ruby asked, her voice going higher as she interrupted Weiss.

"I was referring to Wukong." She frowned, had she been unclear in her wording? It didn't matter. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?" She clapped a hand over her mouth, Weiss had done it again, said something on instinct without thinking through the consequences. 

"Um... not really. But I--"

"Wonderful." Weiss interjected. "I really do have to go--" She looked down at Sun, positioning him inside the car that would take them both to the small hotel he and his team had been staying in. She looked at the driver, moving the scroll away from her face and gave him the address. The man blinked, before nodding, subtly taking down the 'no faunus' sign from his dashboard. Weiss sniffed a little, before placing the phone back to her ear.

"Oh um... okay." Ruby said. 

She found herself wondering if she had just been sitting there silent while she had talked to the cab driver.

"Was there anything you wanted me to tell Blake?" Ruby asked.

Weiss hesitated for a moment. "Tell her... tell her she better not fuck this one up."

"_What_\--"

The former heiress hung up the phone, and sent a quick text to Neptune's scroll.

(He met the two of them outside the hotel room, face tinging with worry and relief when he saw Weiss and Sun stumbling toward him. In that moment she didn't care what the possible reporters decided to say in the morning, only worrying over Sun Wukong, his flushed cheeks no longer an endearment.)

* * *

Weiss had learned something in her time at Sun and Neptune's wedding. Singing was not getting any easier. The lyrics were happier than she was used to, and yet every word sung felt melancholic and droll-- sadness seeping into the edges of her voice. If there was one thing Weiss knew in that moment-- it was that the loneliness that crushed her seemed eternal and transversal, a set of lines always interacting, only they were representations of the empty field that was her mindscape and the sharp pang she felt that often accompanied grief.

Though she believed the only emotion she could ever truly feel while singing was the bitter sting of sadness, she had always been a remarkable pretender.

She knew she wouldn't fool Sun, and she would be lucky if Neptune or team CVFY didn't noticed-- but the rest of the guests had been convinced, and that was all that mattered much anyway. It had, of course, helped that Whitley and Winter Schnee had been able to attend this wedding, and she had a place to look other than RBY, which had immediately captured her attention.

It had been months since Coco and Velvet's wedding, even less time since that absolutely horrid phone call, and yet somehow all they did was draw her eyes to theirs. At least she was on relatively better terms with Blake, Ruby and Yang however, were complete outliers-- and she didn't know whether or not her civility would be able to last under their watchful eyes. 

Weiss, like most physical things, was good at singing. She was entirely and totally wonderful; able to enrapture just about anyone with the honeyed tones that escaped from her lips, making the total stranger feel like they might know this woman very well. While soft and sweet, there was also a fundamental _'detachment_,' something that was necessary for her father and his company name-- it made the people who knew her feel like they were looking at a total stranger, alienating the people she knew, and drawing the citizen-filled masses like flies to her, and therefore, her father.

She never unlearned it, that aloofness she held, was never able to overcome it. 

Weiss knew though, that she was much better about it now then she had been when she was younger. (She had that knowledge now, but didn't before-- leading to one of the most conflict filled encounters of her life.)

Her eyes were inadvertently drawn to silver, and something akin to longing made it's home in her voice. _She had to stop looking at her, she had to stop looking at her, she had to stop looking at her--_

(She couldn't stop looking, so she closed her eyes.)

She wondered what would have become of her if she had managed to overcome her issues much sooner, if she would have been able to get over herself and love her friends with all of her being-- instead of just a very small part of her. The thought made her sick to her stomach. The dark of her vision was a comfort, but she knew that shutting her eye-lids would never be enough to quench the amount of emotion she had felt, the amount of emotion she didn't want to feel. 

Weiss opened her eyes again, looking at the one place that always managed to draw her attention more than Ruby. She saw a flash of white, a similar eye color to her own, and the inexplicable feeling worsened, preparing to explode, ready to bubble over until she was quite possibly screaming every lyric she had. (Which wouldn't do, as the song she was singing was not meant for yelling, not meant for anything but the delicate and innocent worship that the writer felt for the subject of their affections. If she was anything other than conflicted, she would commend Sun on his song of choice.) Eventually, when the song was over, she found that she was suddenly desperate to get off of the stage. 

She bowed, waiting patiently until it was socially acceptable to escape, and quickly made her way to a bathroom. 

Weiss felt so sick, she thought she may actually throw up.

She entered the restroom, closing and locking the door behind her, luckily it was not a necessarily public bathroom, and she was the only one inside. Weiss surged forward, gripping at the sink with one hand and clawing at her throat with the other. She heaved, gagging, she wasn't going to throw up-- but that didn't stop the desire to empty herself into the bathroom from increasing. 

She turned on the faucet, the water splashing against the basin in a perfect metaphor concerning her anxiety and the room she stood in. A rush of water in a confined space, a moment of peace in her agony-- some sense of normalcy. 

Weiss muffled her cries against her shoulder, stripping off her gloved palms and rinsing off the scared hands. 

She was so tired. 

So... so _very_ tired.

She splashed water on her face, not caring for the make up she had applied that evening. Her aura lashed out, freezing the mirror-- she managed to get herself under control before it shattered, but the damage had been done, a single splinter cracking through the reflective glass. In a rather ironic turn of events, the split was directly over her left eye, matching her scar in everything except length.

_A crack in the mirror._ Weiss thought. _My defiance, forever planted onto the face my father claimed his._

_The destruction of a porcelain doll_, she thought, amused. _Perfection no longer._

A bitter laugh rose from her throat, the sound never an expression of joy with her, not anymore.

She glanced down at the palms of her hands, examining the plethora of scars she had accumulated over the course of the maiden's war. She remembered getting all of them so vividly, remembered Ruby kissing every single one.

Weiss forced herself to stop her tears from flowing, taking a deep breathe. If she didn't hurry and clean herself up, no doubt someone would discover her like this soon. She carefully washed the remnants of the makeup from her face, careful not to get anything on her ocean blue gown. Neptune had asked her to show up in the color, had told her that as long as she was wearing that-- she could do whatever she liked. 

She wore dark red earrings. 

She took them off in the bathroom, slipping them into a small hidden pocket she had hidden a tiny obsidian dagger in. (Klein had long since warned her of what he would do if he found out she was attacked without it on her person.)

When she was clear faced and no longer red eyed, she dried the water from herself, silently preparing for the event outside. She sincerely hoped nobody had noticed her mad dash to the bathroom.

Weiss exited, walking warily back to the ball room. 

She would talk to Sun and Neptune for a while, she decided, she would do that and then text Whitley to publicly ask her with his help with something at the company and go _home_\-- Or as much as the Schnee Manor could ever be called a home. A to-do list, she had a plan; she was positive almost nothing could divert her attention, almost nothing could make her not leave.

"Weiss?" A voice asked, making her stiffen, spine straightening immediately. She turned, meeting the amber eyes of Blake Belladonna, burning violet of Yang Xiao Long, and the silver of the woman she wanted to avoid the most. "Hey are you alright?"

"Fine." She snapped back, tone clipped, wincing when Blake jumped a little. "Sorry." She rubbed at her forehead. "Just a little stressed."

The faunus hummed, the sympathy in her eyes was nearly too much for Weiss to bear.

Despite herself, she found that she had began wishing for the floating city of Atlas. Only Sun would follow her there, as he was foolhardy enough to tickle a sleeping dragon. (Only Weiss wasn't a dragon, nor was she asleep-- but rather something icy and different altogether, something alien to be feared... The creature her father had created to succeed him.) 

"Right." Blake said softly. "We were about to go talk to Sun and Neptune..." She trailed off, attempting to string her words together. "Would... Would you like to join us?"

Weiss didn't look at Ruby, instead glancing down at her hands, wrapped in pure white silk with the Schnee emblem on the back of them. She needed to be brave... She needed to at least tell the newly married couple good bye-- she couldn't just leave them on the day meant to represent their happiness. Even if they understood (and they would) she could never begin to forgive herself if she left them like this.

"Alright." She said. 

If Blake was surprised by her agreement, she did not show it, the only sign that she had heard her the small quirk of her lips.

The walked together, approaching the men in a slightly awkward silence. Weiss didn't talk unless she was spoken to, and Blake was the only one attempting to include her in the conversation. She found that she didn't mind not talking to all of her former team members, and comfortably melted into the background as they searched for Sun and Neptune.

They found them by the food, a turn of events that surprised no one-- what did amount to some shock, however, was Whitley and Winter Schnee, who were effortlessly conversing with the newly weds.

Weiss found herself smiling, surging forward and greeting her siblings with a genial expression on her face. "Hello Winter!" She said happily, then flatly turning to her brother, "Hello, younger boy child."

Winter hid a snort behind her cough as Whitley scowled. "I'm _twenty_." He complained. "Twenty years old, Weiss."

"Hello, younger boy child." She said again, expression not changing, but words coming out with more force.

"I'm _twenty_! Practically an old man!" He wailed dramatically.

"Are you?" Winter mumbled into her champagne glass. "Excuse me for mistaking you for a twelve year old..." She examined his suit critically. "...you certainly look like one." Winter furrowed her brow, <_That would look better on our sister than it does you_.> In German.

Weiss had to hide her snicker. She waved at Sun and Neptune, who were grinning as they watched the siblings interact with each other.

Whitley gaped. <_Mother picked this out for me! She said I looked **dashing**._>

"Was mother dearest _lying_, perhaps?" Winter interjected, switching back to common easily.

<_Did she go through my closet again?_> Weiss asked, ignoring her siblings' petty quips.

"No!" Whitley protested, his pale cheeks flushing. "_Maybe_..." He mumbled. "But that isn't the point, darling sister." He crossed his arms behind his back, puffing out his chest. "Besides the only opinion that matters to me is my own."

"And Oscar's." Weiss and Winter said in unison.

He squawked, his cheeks blushing even harder.

"Oh that reminds me!" Neptune interjected. "Weiss, didn't you say that this isn't the first ranch that Whitley tried to give the poor boy?"

Her smile turned downright predatory. "_Well_\--"

"Sister if you value your reputation you will not say a _single_ thing." Whitley tried desperately, tugging at Winter's sleeve in an attempt to get her to agree with him.

The eldest Schnee rolled her eyes, sipping her champagne. "_Weiss_."

The singer nearly pouted, her lips quirking slightly. <_Fine. Fine._>

Whitley was the first to notice the awkward loitering of team RBY. He very openly sneered, before controlling his expression and returning to his genial smile. "Huntress Rose, Xiao Long, Belladonna." He greeted, nose wrinkling a little. "It's a pleasure to see you all again, truly." He said, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. The action reminded Weiss so much of her father she found herself snorting into the palm of her hand.

Winter, who was watching the scene with a careful unreadable look on her face, slapped her gently on the shoulder-- pulling her off to the side for a conversation. <_He's trying to be civil._> Her sister's voice was so quiet only Blake could possibly hear, though she couldn't possibly understand the words spoken.

<_He's **failing** to be civil, there's a difference_.> She responded in turn, equally as silent. <_He looks like a tiny father, not a subtle bone in his body, the both of them._>

<_And I suppose you could do better?_> Winter raised an eyebrow, eyeing as her sister's former teammates awkwardly greeted her brother. <_**Well**_?>

<_Of course I can._> Weiss sneered a little. <_But that doesn't mean I **want **to_.>

"A Schnee is never not _cordial_." Winter added in common, sipping her drink.

"A Schnee is never not _lying_." Weiss replied, a little too sharply.

The eldest daughter eyed her younger sister. "I knew I shouldn't have let you sing."

"Let me?" She glared at the impassive Winter.

"Perhaps the wrong words," Her sister suggested, "Yet it changes nothing, you always get like this after a concert, always looking for a fight." Fondness. <_My little sister._> Annoyance. Winter's eyes narrowed, "That is why, you're a mess."

"I am a creature created, a tool made and molded." Weiss responded shortly. "As you were meant to be, as Whitley is."

"You don't have to be." Her voice was sad.

Weiss shivered. "Enough of this, Winter." She looked back at where Neptune and Sun were, watching and trying not to laugh as Whitley made various odd conversation topics. "Where is Oscar, anyway? Last I checked the two were connected at the hip."

"Over there." She pointed to where the man was, talking adamantly to Ren and Nora. "He ran off the second he saw you approaching with your old team."

"Smart boy." Weiss cooed a little.

"I suppose." Winter started forward, "Come, sister, we must return-- our absence has already been noticed." She jerked her head to the side subtly, where silver eyes were watching. 

"Right." Weiss mumbled. "I was actually planning on heading home soon."

Her sister sniffed as they walked forward. "Please don't tell me that Ms. Rose is the reason for your departure." 

"She isn't." Weiss answered honestly. "I... singing." She stumbled over her words. "You said that when I sang--"

"I understand." Winter's expression softened. They had reached the group. "Do what you must." Fondness. <_My little sister._>

"I shall." She said softly, "But perhaps after a moment."

She walked up to the blonde man, patting him on his suited shoulder.

"Weiss!" His smile lit up the entire room. "Ready?" Sun asked enthusiastically.

"I regret ever meeting you." She deadpanned, but could not hide the subtle twitch of her lips.

"Aw! I love you too!" He grinned, extending an arm. "My Empress of Snow."

"Monkey King." She said softly, gently. "I believe I owe you dance."

"Me too!" Called Neptune when the made toward the floor. "You owe me one too!"

Weiss laughed, shooting him a wink. "Maybe at the next one, Sea King."

Sun smiled at that, a little dopey. "You gave us matching nicknames." He murmured, setting a hand above her waist and clasping their palms together. She watched him for a moment, examining his unruly blonde hair and happy eyes. 

"How could I ever do anything else?" She whispered. "You are, _after all_, a matching set."

He laughed, gently spinning her for a moment. The song they danced to was a little to fast for a slow dance, but somehow Weiss found herself not minding. Her eyes met silver once more, she turned her face away.

"How are you doing with that?" Sun asked softly, his face pulling into a sad smile when he noticed where exactly her attention had been drawn to. "Little Rubles seems to bring out a side of you I've never seen before."

"I'm... it's been--" She sighed in frustration. "It's been tiring." Weiss laid her head against his shoulder for a moment, before pulling away. "I'm so exhausted, Wukong."

"I know, Empress Snow." He mumbled into her ear. "I know."

The night ended soon after that, after saying goodbye to Sun, Neptune, her siblings, and sharing a tentative glance or two with Blake.

Weiss fell asleep as soon as she made it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sun has anxiety... my poor lovable boy (though it may not have seen like it, all of his panic was derived in the fact that Weiss was about to be put into a situation she did not want to be in) as for Rubles.... ooof, am I right?


	3. million dollar bills (or mirror mirror part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang isn't stupid, okay? She knows that some part of her messed up, and that some part of Weiss made a mistake, and that her sister isn't the person she once was. But that doesn't stop her from hoping.
> 
> or
> 
> Lilac eyes watch the woman on the stage, relishing in the noise that reverberates around the atrium of the wedding they all stand in. The sound is achingly familiar, ruthless in its barrage of pain and love and something else that Yang can't quite place. Loneliness, she realizes-- whispering the word so quietly only Blake could have possibly heard her. Her eyes snap open, the woman on the stage reflecting from the deep purple color that slumbers there. Weiss is alone.
> 
> "Meine kleine schwester." Winter says later, silently chastising Weiss. -My little sister-
> 
> And even though the blonde could not possibly understand the words that the older woman had spoken, when she looks into silver eyes, Yang thinks she might get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm working on writing things like *feelings* anyway, no wedding this chapter, just the set up of a future one

Yang isn't stupid. 

Really.

_She isn't._

As a matter of fact, if you were counting feats of the intellectual nature, she could proudly say that she scored higher than most of her peers when it came to becoming a huntress.

So yeah. She isn't stupid.

Yeah _sure_, she's blonde, and she's beautiful, and she's confident in herself, and she might be a little... '_top-heavy_' but none of that really defines who she is as a person. (Except the whole confidence thing, that's an aspect of herself she loves, because like, why _wouldn't_ she believe in herself? She's awesome.) Sure _sometimes_ she comes off a little arrogant, but only a few people's perceptions of her _actually_ matter. (Like Blake, and Ruby, and her dad, and her uncle-- and, _once upon a time_, Weiss Schnee.)

She doesn't mean to brag, except she totally does, but she's actually been compared to a genius sometimes-- and it made her feel like she could see everything, made her feel like she could figure out _anything_. (And then the Fall of Beacon happened, and her teenage mind wizened up _very_ quickly.) But yeah, she's smart and she knows it and no outside force can change that.

(Sometimes though, when she looks at her sister and the people around her, she can't help but wonder if none of that actually matters, because she didn't notice the struggles that Weiss and Ruby seemed to be going through, because she didn't realize how messy their breakup would be, because the fallout made Yang lose not one, but _two_ sisters.)

She remembers Weiss sometimes, can see her long white hair and sparkling glacier eyes, can see her smile-- the way her cheek lifts and distorts the two scars on her face (one slashing down her left eye and the other crossing it like a diagonal plus sign on her pale face) making them look apart of her happiness, making her look like an old world painting. Yang remembers the good things, the short bursts of breathe that would escaped her pursed lips when she was trying not to laugh, the fond look she would give them all when they did something silly, the slanted grin that only Ruby seemed to draw out of her.

She remembers the good things. (But she remembers the bad things too.)

Yang sees the way her pale brows furrow, sees the defensiveness and the anger and the _cold_, sees the ruthlessness of her actions, the disregard for her own safety. Yang sees the heavy cloak of sadness that wraps it's way around Weiss' shoulders, hears the soft tones of a language long dead spilling from her mouth as she speaks to an old man-- her eyes sorrowful and unhappy, unable to do anything as she receives grievous blow after grievous blow.

(Worst of all, she remembers looking into Weiss' eyes years after their separation, seeing only contempt and boredom in her blue irises-- seeing only pain and dread as she approached her, she remembers the relief in her eyes at the prospect of leaving, the surprise as she forgot that Yang and Blake and Ruby had stood there as she smiled with Sun and Neptune. Yang remembers the sting, and the comfort she had felt at Weiss finding people she could talk to, because at least someone had managed to pierce the woman's walls and stay behind them, at least someone had managed to stay for her.)

Yang isn't stupid, okay? She knows that some part of her messed up, and that some part of Weiss made a mistake, and that her sister isn't the person she once was. But that doesn't stop her from hoping.

From hoping that one day they would look upon each other and smile, that they would show each other genuine kindness, that they might be friends once more. (From hoping that Ruby moves on, and that Weiss does too.)

Blake, on the other hand, had decided to take matters into her own hands. (Not that Yang blames her or anything, she was actually kind of relieved that instead of making the first move she could follow her girlfriend on the path of getting Weiss back.) 

The phone call was the strangest thing, one moment Yang was sitting in her living room, talking to the visiting Jaune and Pyrrha, Ren and Nora had long since drifted off to find Blake and Ruby-- when Nora burst in through Blake and Yang's shared room holding a scroll. 

"_Rubles_! Where are you?!" She shouted, scrambling forward. "I need some help!"

Distantly, a feminine voice asking a question through the scroll, which Nora adamantly ignored.

"In a second Nora--" Yang heard her sister call from the work shop space. She almost rolled her eyes, Ruby must have been fiddling with Crescent Rose again. 

Again from the scroll, only this time she was close enough to hear. "--_hello_?"

"Shush Ice Queen, I'm asking Ruby a question--" Yang blinked as Nora yelled out, "--_Rubles_!"

Now, there was about three different people who Nora could be calling Ice Queen, all of them had the last name Schnee-- and to her knowledge Winter and Willow don't usually acknowledge the existence of any of her friends, so there was truly only one person it could be.

For a moment, Yang wondered how in Remnant that Nora had managed to get Weiss' phone number, when she realized she was holding Blake's phone. Her blonde eyebrows shot up, surprise gripping her and shaking her around so thoroughly for a moment she thought she had actually fell over. It seemed that her partner would have some explaining to do.

She heard Weiss ask for Nora to pass the phone back to Blake, only to receive dismissal. 

Yang cringed a little. 

Then, everyone heard. The effect was immediate.

_"What the **fuck**\--"_ A man's voice, though it was familiar. _"Stop her-- I am not ready for that yet!"_

_ " **I'm** the one who was dumped-- why, **exactly** , are you freaking out?" _

Yang sucked in a breath.

"Okay-- okay!" The silver-eyed woman was there in flurry of rose petals, wearing a red sweatshirt and black shorts, oblivious to the paling faces of everyone in the room. If not for the tense atmosphere, she would have laughed when she noticed the socks that Ruby was wearing, leave it to her little sister to sew tiny roses into every article of clothing she owned. "What is it?" She asked with a sheepish grin.

"I needed your help with a name." Nora sounded noticeably less excited. "Um... where would 'W' go with 'JNPR,' I guess." It was clear the huntress had not planned for the potentially awkward situation-- but it wasn't like Yang could blame her for her actions. After all, almost nobody knew what exactly happened between Weiss and Ruby.

Ruby said nothing for a moment, glancing down at the scroll in Nora's hand. "Um."

_"Oh my **Oum**! What am I gonna say? Hey Ruby, wassup? No that's not good, **way** too casual--"_

_ "Shut up! Shut up!" _ Yang chewed on her lip, moving to stand. _"Wukong, **_stop_** talking--"_

"Weiss?" Ruby asked, taking the scroll from Nora's hand. The blonde was not the only one who heard the stricken tone in the huntress' voice.

An audible clattering sound. Yang hurriedly moved forward, shoving Ruby into her room, following and then closing the door behind her-- trying to give her little sister the barest amount of privacy. 

Ruby shot Yang a helpless look, and she quickly mimed for her to breathe.

Her little sister took the phone off of speaker, and put it to her ear. "Hey." She cleared her throat. "Is..." Her voice was so quiet Yang was sure Weiss would have to strain her ears to hear it. "Is that Sun with you?"

Lilac eyes widened, her sister was _so_ awkward. She made a gesture with her hands, trying to get her to relax, but it was no good-- as she wasn't looking at her.

Weiss said something over the phone, and Ruby's ears began to burn. 

"Me and you?" She squeaked.

Yang moved forward, wrapping an arm around her sister, subtly trying to listen in to whatever Weiss was saying.

"--_was there something you wanted to talk about?_" She only caught the tail end of what the woman was saying, but she could already tell that she did not want to be on the phone.

Ruby, who also could tell, began to stutter. "Um... not really. But I--"

_"Wonderful."_ Was the sharp interjection. _"I really do have to go--"_ She could distantly hear Weiss telling off someone, and telling them to drive.

"Oh." Ruby said, curling into Yang's arm. "Um... okay."

She jostled her younger sister's shoulder a little bit, gesturing for her to keep talking.

"Was there anything you wanted me to tell Blake?" Ruby asked, a little rushed.

Yang shot her a thumbs up.

A brief hesitation. _"Tell her... tell her she better not fuck this one up."_

"_What_-?" Ruby started, only to hear a click as the call ended.

"Yikes." Yang said, she couldn't quite find herself thinking of anything else to say. Her sister curled into her for a moment, setting her head down on her shoulder. 

"That was... ouch." Ruby mumbled, gripping the scroll tightly.

"Yeah." She agreed. "Ouch."

The two couldn't say much after that, wordlessly deciding to sit there, curling into each other, offering silent comfort. They stayed like that for a long time, long enough that Blake's scroll eventually died.

Then at Sun and Neptune's wedding, the strangest thing happens. 

Weiss is there again, and she is singing. 

Yang watches, sitting there, holding her sister down in her chair so she doesn't run away. How she could have ever been close to the woman who stood on the stage? She opens her mouth a little, mouthing the lyrics as her old friend sings, wondering how Weiss managed to detach herself so well from the people she sings to. Looking up, watching as the pale headed singer crafted notes and sugar thin melodies, Yang began to _wonder_.

It's easy, thinking like this-- fascination bleeding into her mind as she watches this woman she considered a sister shield herself with something so beautiful. She marvels, _wondering_\-- and for a moment she loses her train of thought, the only thing she can make any sense of is Weiss Schnee, singing with a quality so alien to Yang.

(With an emotion that Yang had done her best to forget about.)

Lilac eyes watch the woman on the stage, relishing in the noise that reverberates around the atrium of the wedding they all stand in. The sound is achingly familiar, ruthless in its barrage of pain and love and something else that Yang can't quite place. _Loneliness_, she realizes-- whispering the word so quietly only Blake could have possibly heard her. Her eyes snap open, the woman on the stage reflecting from the deep purple color that slumbers there. Weiss is alone.

It's such a startling revelation. (_Such_ a startling revelation.)

Yang stares, grip on Ruby slipping, and understands just why her sister had wanted to run away from this moment. 

(If you knew what to listen for, you would find the cracks in the mirror-- splinters in Weiss that nobody had ever seen before.)

She turns her head, and with some surprise she recognizes Winter Schnee. She stands next to her brother (who was leaning into Oscar Pine) her gaze, so much like Weiss', meet her own. Yang doesn't know what she expects to see, doesn't know what she was looking for-- but the look on Winter's face is something she recognizes. (Something she's intimate with.)

"_Meine kleine schwester_." Winter says later, silently chastising Weiss. <_My little sister_.>

And even though the blonde could not possibly understand the words that the older woman had spoken, when she looks into silver eyes, Yang thinks she might get it. 

* * *

When they were in school, when they were separated, when they were at war-- there had always been something about Ruby Rose that had consumed Weiss Schnee. There had been an underlining sense of... _otherness_\-- something that she had never seen in another person before Ruby before. (It had always been in other people of course, but Ruby Rose was so unashamed in her capacity to _hope_\-- _unashamed_ in the way she _spoke_ and _loved_ and _cherished_\-- it took Weiss completely by surprise.)

Ruby was absolutely _nothing_ like Weiss had ever encountered before, and it fascinated her.

At first, the then-heiress had chalked it up to childhood innocence, and though she was slightly envious of the obvious loving environment that her team leader had grown up in, she resided herself to watch as someone inevitably cut Ruby at her totally normal knees, taking the rose and crumpling it into a ball and tossing it aside for later. But the thing that took Weiss by surprise, was the fact that no matter how many times someone cut the stem that she resided on, Ruby Rose kept on believing, kept on _fighting_. 

Once upon a time, she had considered herself love-proof.

(And she was at first, she suffocated on the affection all around her, drowned in an army of rose petals and the smell of burning wood, choked on wise amber eyes and rough and tumble arms-- it had felt as though someone had attempted to reach inside of her and rip her beating heart from her chest, and Weiss had hated it.)

So yes, once upon a time, Weiss had considered herself love-proof.

But that had been a long time ago.

"Why are we doing this again?" Weiss asked sulkily, grumping as the sounds of laughter filled the airship.

"Come on, Ice Queen!" It was Nora, because of course it was. "You promised us a hunting trip!"

"You _did_ promise." Pyrrha interjects jovially, fiddling with the ends of her long braid.

Weiss pouted, slumping into Sun's side. He had happily decided to accompany her with team JNPR, teasing her mercilessly when he found out she had accidentally signed herself up for an adventure with her old friends. While she was thankful he was there to act like a buffer for any potentially awkward situations, she still didn't fancy the fact that she was in a situation she wouldn't be able to control. (He had been oddly protective over her lately, but so had everyone else she knew-- an attempt had been made on her life about two weeks earlier, leaving most of her friends and family rattled.)

Jaune snickered, only stopping when Weiss shot him a deadly look. The blonde laughed it off, putting his gloved hands up in surrender. "Sorry Weiss, but they aren't _wrong_."

"I got you Snow Empress." He said, switching up her usual nickname (he'd been trying to find one the had 'flow,' whatever that meant.) He _ah-hemmed_, pretending to straighten the loose red tie he was wearing. "My client was under emotional duress at the time, anything she said or any action she took would be considered invalid."

Weiss was the only one who didn't blink in surprise. "Honestly Wukong, I can't believe your _actually_ attempting to get a law degree."

"Attempting?" Sun laughed. "Bro, I'm totally acing all my classes--"

"Wait hold on--" Nora interjected. "Sun's getting a _law_ degree?"

Weiss shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Why?" The orange haired woman asked, curiosity seeping into her lightening colored eyes.

Sun's grin was positively roughish. "Well..." His eyes sparkled, and he drew his legs up to his chest, crossing his ankles. "--Snow Empress over here was complaining about some Atlesian asshole lawyers trying to put ittle-Wittle-Whitley in a position he didn't want to be, the sexist bastards, and I was curious about the laws that allowed Hunters to do their _thang_\-- so I thought to myself, what if I got a law degree?" 

The airship began to take it's decent, getting ready to land.

"Doesn't that take years?" Ren asked.

"Yeah! It does!" Sun answered happily. "I won't be able to help much with the bullshit patriarchal society that is Atlas now, but when I finish up Weiss will have someone to help her with the law that won't immediately double cross her if they're offered a bit more money by the competition." The doors began to open, everyone grabbing their weapons and getting ready to leave.

"Wait what happened to your brother?" Pyrrha asked Weiss, eyes furrowed in worry.

"The board was pressuring him to take the company from me." She answered easily, running a finger up and down Myrtenaster's blade. "The did not plan on the fact that Whitley has placed his lot on me." Her smile was wicked. "Half of them have been fired, the other half scared into submission-- you know, _politics_."

"That's cold." A familiar voice said. "_Weiss_ cold." 

Weiss groaned into the palm of her gloved hands. She'd have a worse reaction to her old team already being at the hunting position, if not for the _god-awful_ pun Yang had decided to greet her with.

"Hey-o, Snow Angel." Yang greeted, lowering her sunglasses. "How've you been?" 

"Worse now." Weiss bit back. "You greet everyone with those terrible puns, or am I just _special_?"

Yang laughed, wiggling her eyebrows. "Someone's getting feisty, sure you aren't getting too comfy in that cushy Atlas job of yours?"

"Oh ha _ha_." Weiss rolled her eyes, hiding a tiny smile. "You're _so_ funny."

Just then, Sun placed a hand on her shoulder, making the singer blink. 

She opened her mouth, surprise bleeding into her expression. Weiss had gone right to bantering with Yang, and it had been so _easy_ for her to do. One stupid pun about her name and she was practically proclaiming her undying friendship-- she hadn't been thinking as the words escaped her mouth. Something Sun, and judging by the half surprised half pleased expression on her face, and Yang had noticed.

Weiss coughed into her hand awkwardly, doing her best to hide the flush that rose to her cheeks. 

Blake snapped out of her shock quicker than anyone else. "Hey, Weiss." She said, moving forward and hesitating, before she pulled her into a hug. Then, tilting her head as her ears flattened against her skull, she whispered-- "Is your brother okay?"

Any and all color she had drained from her face. "He's--" (She thought of her younger brother, panicking as he told her everything the council had told him, how they had planned to throw her through the mud-- ripping any and all credibility she had from her. He had cried. She held him, said his name, and gently pushed his hair back-- kissing his forehead. After that she called Oscar to get him, and when her brother was gone she composed herself and went on a war path.) "--he's alright."

"And you?" She asked softly, voice nearly drowned out as JNPR greeted Ruby and Yang. 

"I..." Weiss trailed off, thinking about all the hoops she had to jump through and bridges she had to burn down. 

Blake shushed her gently, pulling away and smiling, not making her finish her sentence. She seemed to take her answer from the obvious hesitance the former-heiress portrayed as she looked for the words to say. "You don't have to answer that, let's just get ready for the hunt."

"I've been _worried_ about him." She blurted out, lips pursing the second the words escaped her mouth. "I just--" Weiss groaned into the palm of her hand. Why was she doing this? Why was she opening up to Blake? Sure they've been relatively friendly, but she hadn't felt comfortable confiding in her just yet-- so why had the faunus' gentle smile put a crack in one of Weiss' shields?

Worst of all, why was she opening up about _family_?

When Weiss had been on good terms with her old team, it had been a silent understanding not to mention her blood-relatives. (But Blake hadn't asked, had she? No, not really, the question about her brother had been offhand, had been a social expectation. The faunus hadn't expected her to actually answer it, so she had effectively opened up entirely on her own.)

"C'mon." Yang interjected out of nowhere. "You two are gonna miss all the fun." She grabbed Blake's hand, dragging her forward. 

The dark haired woman rolled her eyes, shooting Weiss a sympathetic look, before following her partner.

"Uh. Hey Weiss." A voice greeted to her side, she turned, watching Ruby give her a tiny wave.

Sun was there in an instant. "Hey Ruby!" He greeted her, wrapping one muscled arm around Weiss' shoulders. She nearly let out an audible sigh of relief. "Let's head out, Snow Empress-- lot's of Beowolves to kill!"

He dragged her off, though her eyes remained on her ex-partner. 

Silver met glacier blue, and for a moment Weiss thought she saw a flicker of _something_, before it was gone, and Ruby was turning away.

The rest of the trip goes... _alright_, considering the rocky start. 

At one point though, Ren and Weiss are trapped together in a series of fallen rocks, arranging themselves in such a way that could not be natural. The darkness shrouding their surroundings so badly that she unsure where he starts and she begins. The two of them had always gotten along well, the former heiress content to listen to the man's gentle tones. Though they had not necessarily connected to each other in any substantial way since Ruby and her had ended things, they fall into their former relationship well enough, easily picking up things where they left off on.

He places one hand on her shoulder, and for a moment she swears she sees his pink eyes glow in the darkness. "I'll hide us well enough until we are rescued or find another way out of this." Ren's semblance makes everything go gray-- making Weiss wonder what she must look like slathered in the granite-like color. She moves an arm to her shoulder, where his palm rests, and takes her fingers in his-- easily maneuvering the both of them so they are holding hands, and so that they are defendable (just in case.)

He nods at her, and she almost doesn't see it. "Shall we attempt to find the center? Or brush along the edges of the dome?"

Weiss hums thoughtfully. "I think--" She summons a glyph, and light fills the area they are trapped in. "--that there is no need to flounder around in the dark."

Ren blinks slowly, the only sign that he is truly surprised (she's learned quite a few new tricks), and smiles-- before a loud crash makes it slip off of his pale face.

"--_**where** are you_\--"

"--_anybody see where they went_\--"

"--_snow empress?!_\--"

Weiss cringes at the interference on their coms. She taps at her ear, finding that she cannot respond to the questions fired volley after volley from the two teams. "Mine's broken, how about yours?"

He squeezes her hand a little bit, and pokes at his own. "...no good." He murmurs after a moment. "I'm going to have to deactivate my semblance, Nora knows my aura well enough, and I'm sure Ruby knows yours--" Weiss inwardly winced, though her face revealed no expression. Ren didn't mean anything by his comment, he was only pointing out a face, but she feels something akin to hurt poke at her chest anyway. "--they should be able to find us easily, though so will the--" _he looks_: "_Grimm_."

The Schnee hummed, "Do what you must."

Ren obeys, though he does not let go of her hand. 

Weiss finds herself not minding as much as she once would.

"--_I feel her aura, they're trapped in that mass of_\--"

She tries not to cringe at the confirmation of Ren's previous statement. 

They felt it then, the notable amount of dread that only came when Grimm began to appear. 

"How do you want to do this?" Weiss asked, readying Myrtenaster.

"We shouldn't expect any help from the outside, last we checked, there were still plenty of Grimm." Ren said, grimacing slightly. "My advice is to hope it's only two teeny tiny death stalkers."

Weiss snorted. "Dare to dream."

"Get ready." He mumbles when mass of shadow begin to materialize inside the stone dome. He pulls out his weapons, a hard glint to his eyes that makes itself known when he prepares himself for a fight. "Nora would never forgive me if I died here."

A huff of laughter escaped Weiss' mouth in short bursts. Her aura is alright, she's knows instinctively that it's at about fifty percent, without the lights-- forty if she had to maintain them. "No offense, Li Ren, but I could never forgive myself if I died here." She sniffed indignantly. "Honestly, death in a thunder dome? Done a thousand times at _least_, no honor at all."

The other hunter snorted into the palm of his hand. "How would you prefer to go out then?"

"Perhaps, I would prefer not to die at all." Weiss snarked, readying herself as the first monster made it's way forward. 

The first creature of darkness that barreled forward was a boarbatusk, (the patterns on it's mask making something in her stomach clench) rolling in a deadly spiral that Weiss easily dodged, wordlessly summoning Arma Gigas' sword and easily stabbing it in the stomach. (She momentarily blanched at the instinctive action, and chastised herself for a second for using that part of herself so quickly.) Resolved to not use her knight again, she focused on the next enemy, falling back when she noticed Ren's signal. 

"That was stupid." He teased her, sliding on the floor in a crouch, shooting upwards to shoot the boney armored plates of a large beringel, (the creature was huge, even for the type of Grimm it was) dispatching another boarbutusk as he made his way forward.

She slashed a beowolf in half, using a glyph and gravity dust to momentarily trap the pack of them that had meant to go after Ren. "Shut up." She scowled, using her semblance to move a little faster-- switching to ice dust attacking the beringel's left foot and incasing it in violently spiky block of ice, returning to the beowolves as the man laughed at her. "Distract the beringel, I've got these guys."

"On it." Ren switched up Stormflower to his suit his sudden melee attacks, leaping over one of the monster's large bows and taking his blades down its exposed side.

The Grimm screeched, a dreadful skull shattering sound, making Weiss nearly falter on her attacks to her own enemies. 

Gritting her teeth, she lifted Myrtenaster, summoning balls of fire from the tip of her weapon-- and shot them though the rest of the beowolves. The second the began to fade into shadow, she was moving, her leg lifted as she leaped into the air-- stabbing downward quickly, aiming for a stretch of skin not guarded by the plates of bone. Unfortunately for her, the beringel spotted her from the corner of its glowing red eyes, and lifted the arm not distracted by Ren, in an attempt to swat her away.

Weiss, grimacing, lowered her sword in the air and spun, her feet absorbing the impact as she leaped off of its appendage. Though it was a blow to her aura, it was not as bad as it could of been, and for that she was thankful.

"Cover me--" She shouted as the beringel moved to follow her, shouting in anger and moving far too fast for a creature of its size. "--I've got an idea."

Ren shouted, "Is it a bad one?" He shot at the exposed joints of the Grimm. "I don't think--"

"_Oh my Oum_, just cover me!" She shrieked in panic as she dodged the increasingly angered monster.

"_Fine_!" He exclaimed, "Here, monster _monster_!" He shouted sarcastically.

Weiss leaped out of the way, "I don't think that will-- _oof_." The beringel spun, knocking her against the wall of the dome, and _roared_\-- charging for Ren.

She groaned, falling from the wall and landing on her knees. Weiss leaned heavily on Myrtenaster, cold eyes watching Ren dodge and weave-- attempting to distract the beringel without much thought to what she might have planned. (A part of her was warmed by his trust in her abilities, the other appalled by the fact that he had been so ready to leap into danger without the knowledge of what she was about to do.)

The former heiress closed her eyes, concentrating. She was lucky, she had just enough steam to pull off the hair-brained plot she had come up with, though her aura would most definitely be shattered by the time she was done.

Weiss grinned a little, Winter was going to give her _so_ much shit.

"Fair warning, you might slip!" She yelled at Ren, who screamed somethin intelligible back.

With another deep breathe, she stabbed the floor with the tip of her rapier, using ice dust to freeze the ground and amplifying the effect with her aura. (It had always been a little chilly anyway, freezing the inside of the dome was nothing.)

The beringel let out a nose that sounded a lot like confusion, slipping and sliding towards Ren (who admittedly had to stifle his laugh at the sight.)

She pressed her palms into the ice, Myrtenaster left impaled in the now ice covered ground-- reaching upward toward the sky. A line of glyphs appeared, leading from her to the monster, each was a different color, lined with a different type of dust. Weiss huffed with effort, lifting one hand to grip the hilt of her rapier, pointing it toward the berengil and using the revolver integrated into the weapon.

Weiss fired.

_Boom!_

The berengil roared in pain, falling over with a sick smack against the ice. It squirmed as the effects of each and every dust type began to engulf its body, and with one last pitiful, ear-shattering scream, it began to fade away into the shadows. Weiss felt victorious, until she realized the explosion had rocked the dome, and large pieces of the ceiling began to fall.

At the very top, as sunlight begins to seep through the holes, she makes out a pair of boots, and a crimson cape. 

Then, the figure was moving forward.

Weiss couldn't make out much of what was happening, as Ruby had been moving so fast. But she remembers seeing a tornado of huge hulking boulders and rose petals, and then watching as the storm changed direction (she hadn't known it at the time, but it was Ruby, gathering all the debris with her semblence)-- and shot towards an unknown point, showering various grimm in deadly pieces of stone.

The area was cleared off everything, leaving only a flat land covered in frost. 

(Weiss was reminded of an ice-skating rink.)

When it was over, she groaned into her hand, the lights that were now useless above them beginning to flicker out. She had used too much aura perfecting a trick she didn't even know would work.

"Weiss." Ren stated softly, suddenly right in front of her. She looked up from her position, meeting his pink gaze. He had a hand extended to her, she looked at it for a moment, before taking it.

Once she was up on her own, she leaned heavily on Myrtenaster, and shot him a small (but genuine) smile. "How'd I do?"

He gently bumped her shoulder with his. "Pretty good, considering."

"_Pretty good_, _considering_." She mocked him.

"When did you learn that thing with the light?" Ren asked curiously, "And that thing with your semblance-- I didn't know that you could use multiple types of dust at once."

She almost didn't tell him the truth. "Neither did I."

The look on his face was chastising, but jovial. "Well, I'm glad I was the first to see it, then."

"Snow Empress!" A voice shouted, and suddenly she was wrapped up tightly in a pair of muscled arms. "Oh my goodness I was so worried-- I kept wondering if you were dead and what I would tell Neptune, and Winter, and Whitley, and Klein and had no idea what had happened and--" He blubbered, his blue eyes teary. Over his shoulder, she noticed Nora fussing over Ren equally (if not more) emotional to Sun.

She made eye contact with Blake, who smiled at her-- and then Yang, who shot her a thumbs up and a mischievous grin. (Ruby was off to the side, away from the former heiress' line of sight.)

Weiss, uncomfortable in the public display of affection, coughed awkwardly. She used one palm to pat him on his bare chest, the other to cup his cheek. "I'm alright, Monkey King." She cooed gently. "Nothing I couldn't handle, you know that."

Sun pouted a little, a couple tears escaping his eyes. "I know that." He mumbled as she wiped them away. "But I've been on edge since that last assassination attempt--" She clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late-- everyone there had heard.

"I'm sorry--" Nora interjected, her voice bordering on hysterical, "--but did you just say, _assassination_ attempt?"

Weiss flicked the blonde faunus' nose. 

"What-- pfft, _no_!" Sun protested when he caught the Schnee's panicked eyes. "I said... um, _animation_ attempt... _'cause_\-- I'm so scared Snow Empress is gonna start... animating, or something."

"Weiss!" Nora spun on her, still in her the monkey faunus' arms. "Did you almost get _murdered_?!"

"No." She interjected seriously, though a little too quick for anyone to believe her. "I _didn't_\--"

"_Yeah_!" Sun added. "The plot _failed_, so like, 'almost' isn't the right word."

"_Wukong_!" Weiss hissed, wrenching her way out of his hug. "What did we _talk_ about?"

He cringed. "I know. I know-- but I kind of dug us a hole with the 'animating' excuse and I decided to just give her what she wanted." He smiled at her sheepishly, before his face became serious. "Besides." Sun looked her in the eyes, "If they know, they might be able to help."

"I have a team for that--" Weiss protested.

"A team of people you don't _trust_, and for good reason, considering half of them are incompetent and the other mercenaries." He glared at the thought of them, "Some are a mix of _both_."

"Wait a minute, wait a _minute_." Blake interjected. "Weiss-- when did this happen?"

Sun opened his mouth to speak, only to receive a glare from his friend. "Another word Wukong, and I _swear_\--"

"Two weeks ago." He answered for her. "We don't know who it is--" He ignored Weiss' scream of frustration, "--I wanted to tell you all right away to see if you can help me and my team track down the culprits, but Weiss refused."

"Because it wasn't _important_\--" She interjected, "An attempt on my life is nothing _new_ Wukong, you _know_ that--"

"--_excuse me_\--" Blake and Pyrrha.

"--_say **what** now_\--" Jaune and Nora.

Ren and Ruby stayed silent, watching Sun and Weiss argue with matching unreadable expressions.

"Nobody's ever gotten this close before, Snow." He said, shortening her nickname again. "They _hurt_ you--"

"I sprained my wrist thoroughly _trouncing_ them--"

"But they got away!" Sun raised his voice, "And you refuse to do anything about it--"

"I know who did it!" Weiss shot back, anger making her tone deadly. "I already _know_, Wukong." His face contorted into something unfamiliar. "So does Winter, Whitley, and my mother-- not to mention Klein probably has a good idea too." She spat. "Think, who has access to the Schnee Manor's blue prints, who has means, motive, and just the right amount of hatred for me and my siblings to fund such a _stupid_ expedition--"

"Your father." Ruby says, it's the first words she's said since they had finished up the Grimm.

The other woman's voice makes Weiss' voice stop working, and all the fight drains from her shoulders.

Sun opens his mouth, and then closes it.

"You get it now, don't you?" She asks him, voice softer. "Why we can't do anything that would effectively last?"

"Maybe so." Sun's voice goes rough. "But that doesn't mean we can't at least _try_."

But Weiss doesn't _want_ to try, she doesn't want to put any real effort into taking her father down a peg because that's what he _wants_\-- he wants her desperate and paranoid and paying attention to him.

"Sun--" And the way her voice caresses his name, like he's someone so very important to her, draws everyone's eyes. "--he'll make a mistake. He always does, and then Winter will be there, ready to throw him in a hole somewhere." She gently lifts her hand to his, "There is nothing else we can do."

His shoulders slump, and she knows that she has won.

"Fine." His smile is a little weak. "It's your decision, anyway." He looks down at their joined hands. "I should have respected that."

"Wait a minute--" A mixture of voices interrupt.

"You've got to be kidding me--" It's Yang and her eyes are red, "--you're just going to let your asshole dad _get away with it_?"

"I'll break his legs!" Nora shouted, and static fills the air. "Say the word and he's _done_\--"

"You guys." Ruby interjects, and her voice is serious, controlled. Silver eyes are colder than Weiss has ever seen them before, and for a moment she wonders if that chill is directed at her, and wondered what exactly she did wrong-- only for the scythe-wilder's expression to soften when she notices the former-heiress looking. "That's enough." Her words are gentle, "There's nothing we can do if we can't get Weiss to agree to it."

She blinks, icy eyes a little wide. She didn't know exactly what she expected Ruby to say, but an agreement definitely wasn't it.

"That being said." Her ex-partner continues. "I still think you should have told us--" She falters suddenly, as if realizing that she hadn't been on speaking terms with Weiss for more than a year, "--or at least shouldn't have tried to keep it a secret."

"Right." The pale headed woman drawled. "I should have just mentioned it casually then?" She snarked. "'Hello friends, long time no see-- did you know my father is trying to kill me again? Oh yeah he's upped the attempt on my life _big_ time--"

"_Weiss_." Ruby interrupts, and her expression is pained. "This isn't an isolated incident, is it?"

She blinked, momentarily startled. Trust her former team-leader to look past the barbs and see the underlining meaning to her cruel words. She sniffed, jutting her head to the side and lowering her chin slightly-- a motion of reluctant confirmation. Weiss licked at the inside of her mouth, anxiety swirling inside of her, she didn't want Ruby's attention because she might be dead soon. 

(She didn't want Ruby's attention _at all_.)

"It's being handled." Weiss mumbled stiffly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah." Ruby says, a rare expression of anger passing over her face. "You never want to talk about it." The implication was there, and suddenly they weren't talking about the assassination attempt anymore.

The temperature dropped dramatically at the realization.

Frost began to spread its way across Weiss' collar bones, it was such an obvious sight-- and made everyone gape.

Sun was the first to shake himself out of his stupor. "Hey there Snow, come on--" This wasn't the first time he'd seen something like this happen, after all.

Her glare was an ugly thing, and ugly _dangerous_ thing.

Everyone staggered a little, it was so _cold_ suddenly-- absolutely freezing.

"Weiss," Sun whispered, "Come on breathe, you're going to attract Grimm--" He tried for a smile, "--isn't your aura tired from all that fighting? Don't you just want it to _cool_ down?"

"Shut up." She hissed, eyes flashing with something murderous, she crossed her arms-- not noticing the ice beginning to grow from her skin, turning it the color of her aura, a pale blue. The ground beneath her cracked.

Sun panicked a little. "Um okay-- jokes don't work anymore got it, I'll jot it down--"

Weiss moved, forcing her feet from the ice they had been imbedded in. The cracks made her wince. 

A roar.

"Shit." Sun said, looking down at his feet-- only to find them trapped in ice. "_Double_ shit."

"Weiss-?" It was Yang, there was a puddle of water at her feet, her hair was glowing-- though her eyes remained their normal colors. "Hey what's happening?" Her smile was gentle as she moved forward, melting the others from their chilly prisons. 

The former heiress coughed into her palm, blood smearing against her lips. "It happens sometimes." She whispered stiffly. "Can't control it." She breathed out, coughing a little more-- red spray staining the broken ice bellow her. She slowly stripped her gloves, she was wearing her favorite, the ones that belonged to her grandfather. (They were a mixture of crimson and white, and if she coughed on the red she didn't have to worry about staining them.) 

"That--" A glimmer of worry in Yang's lilac eyes. "--_that_ looks like blood, Weiss, and that--" She looked at the frost across her neck and collarbones, "--_that_ looks a lot like dust."

She grit her teeth, ignoring the frost that began to sprout from the gaps of them. "Get everyone away from here." She huffed. "It's not going to go away quick-- and Grimm are coming."

"We can't leave you here--" Sun protested, slipping a little in the newly formed puddle he stood in. "--I can't just--"

"You can and you will." Weiss said, voice brokering no argument. "My aura will kill anyone that comes near it soon--" Her eyes were apologetic. "That includes friends, unfortunately."

"No--" It was Ruby speaking this time. "--we can't--"

"You _will_." Weiss said with more force, coughing into her gloves once more, leaning forward and wheezing. "_Go_."

A deafening roar.

Yang looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable except for a determined glittering in her eyes. "I can stay with you." The blonde said, "My aura counters whatever this is--" She turned to Ruby, "I can stay here, with her, but you have to go."

"_No_!" Ruby and Weiss protested in unison, both for different reasons.

"You all have to go--" Weiss murmured, leaning heavily onto Myrtenaster. "It's only happened at this scale once before--" She closed her eyes, remembering, before snapping them open once more, the whites of her eyes were blue, "--I'd rather not have a repeat performance."

Something flickered in Yang's face, something that she hadn't seen directed at her in a long, long time. "I already left you behind once," She says, "I'm not doing that again." She turned to everybody, who simply stood there, horror plain as day on their faces. "_Go_." She bellowed, releasing a flow of fiery hot aura that melted any ice that had been trapping them.

Pyrrha snapped out of it first, shoving Jaune forwards despite his sputtered protests. "Follow me." She said, grabbing Sun by the scruff of his neck and dragging him with her. She stopped in front of the woman covered in ice, not moving to touch her, but nodding-- like she understood what was about to happen.

(Considering what happened at the Fall of Beacon, she might have.)

Ren and Nora were next, though Ren hesitated when passing Weiss. "If you live..." He looked tired. "You're singing at my wedding." He was gone before she could protest.

Blake, who had know doubt heard the 'if you live', scrunched her eyes closed tight. "You're _both_ terrible." 

Weiss and Yang laughed, though the blonde's was much more genuine. "Go Blake." Yang said softly, leaning down and pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you in a minute, okay?"

"No--" Ruby said, "What's happening? What's even going on--"

Yang grabbed the front of her little sister's hood. "Go!" She shoved her into Blake's arms.

Another howl, the sound of monsters moving forward.

"Not until I know what's happening--" the silver eyed warrior protested.

"Ruby." Weiss said, breath fanning all around her face. There was frost patterned on her the skin of her cheeks, she was so pale-- so blue, you could not see any blood in her face. "Do you remember that subject we had in school? The one all about the science of dust?" Silver met blue.

"Yeah--" Something in Ruby's voice shook. "Yeah I do..." She looked troubled, "...you got angry at the professor, 'cause he'd say stuff that was wrong, sometimes."

She nodded, though the motion was hard as ice had encased her neck. "Do you remember those videos he showed us-- the ones about unstable particles of dust, and the consequences that came if you mixed it wrong?"

Horror began to make its way across the gentle features of Ruby's face. "_No_\--"

"So you see now?" Weiss asked. "Why you need to go?"

"How did this happen?" Ruby questioned instead of answered. "When we were--" Something in her expression was heart-wrenching, "--when we were together _nothing_ like this ever--"

"There will be time to answer your questions." Weiss said. "But _later_, it has to be later."

"She's right, Rubles." Yang whispered. "It's time for you to go."

In the end, Blake had drag Ruby away kicking and screaming. (The silver-eyed warrior had used up all the reserves she had for her semblance, or else she would have been able to get away from the cat faunus easily.)

"If you aren't going to leave, you should hide." Weiss struggled to keep herself contained.

"Nothing to hid behind, _schwester_."

"Do you even know what that word means?" She was so surprised she had laughed.

"I figured it out well enough." Yang responded. "Now come on and get it over with, Ice Queen, I'm starting to get hot."

Weiss laughed again, the sound surprising and slightly bitter. "Not for long."

And with that, Weiss' aura shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's basically jack frost babs (I know that jacq-ass schnee is meant to be 'jack frost' like Weiss is meant to be 'snow white' and he essentially is, but I came up with a cool idea-- which is why you'll find out *later* how everything happened, and why her aura is the way it is)


	4. turn me to gold in the sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distantly, she is aware of the fact that she knows this woman, has been intimate with this facet of Weiss' desire for control and bitterness for the people she feel have deserted her-- because she has seen her before, seen her in the fight against her sister, seen her in the downfall of her father, seen her in the destruction of her mother-- Ruby Rose has seen this version of Weiss Schnee, the side that is not afraid to lash out and to hurt, the side that both Jacques and Winter Schnee had a hand in creating, though the latter may not know it.
> 
> or
> 
> (Yang Xiao Long burns gold, and it is though she is the sun itself, Apollo and Helios have blessed her with the flame of their life blood, and she has grown into it better than they ever could have dared to dream for.)
> 
> (Weiss Schnee burns blue, and it is though she is the cold itself, Jack Frost and Father Winter have cursed her with the freezing winds of their bone, and she has shrunk into herself more than they ever could have dared to hope for.)
> 
> Her sister walks forward, and it is as if time slowed down. Each step Yang takes is another reason to keep fighting.
> 
> And so Ruby does.
> 
> or
> 
> Ruby was desperate and Weiss was stubborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rubles Rose is my bby and I've only had her pov for this chapter but if anything happened to her I would kill everyone here and them myself... also,,,, it's a ruby chapter babies!!! y'all ready for it? (fair warning tho, she is in no way an unbiased narrator) also... did I really write a little bit of song lyrics that not only fit with crosshares… but make Ruby feel pain because of the context of this fic???? Why yes, yes I did
> 
> I'm 100% that bitch

The first time Ruby sees Weiss after they break up, it's a year later and it's at a wedding. (Which, totally kind of hilarious considering that they see each other at an event meant to celebrate wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone; ya know, they're ex-girlfriends.) But anyway, she doesn't actually see her at first-- she was scarfing down something with too much chocolate and marshmallows and sugar, when she hears her name being announced. 

_ "--and here to sing a song for the newlyweds, performing for the first time in seven years, _ ** _Weiss Schnee!_ ** _ " _

The first thing she thinks is that the announcer is wrong. Her thought process jumps around, quick and hyperactive like her semblance.

She thinks of how wonderful it is that Coco and Velvet managed to get someone to sing for them, then she thinks of Weiss-- wondering why the announcer said it was the first time in seven years, because Weiss had sung for them only five years ago, and then she realizes that the announcer doesn't know that because it wasn't public-- then she found herself wondering why Yang and Blake suddenly looked so stricken, as if someone had taken them and peeled off any sense of happiness-- and then she thinks, _ oh hey wait a minute, I know that lady! _

Indeed, Ruby Rose _ does _ in fact know that lady.

Weiss Schnee was the first woman to ever break her heart that wasn't made of metal and meant for killing things. (_ Wait... does Penny count as made of metal and meant for killing things? Whatever she'll get back to that later. _)

But anyway, yeah, Weiss _ broke _her heart. 

She gripped it in her perfectly precise fingertips and squeezed and squeezed and _ squeezed _\-- until Ruby couldn't really take it anymore. (But that didn't mean she hadn't tried to make things better, that she hadn't tried to work through their issues and solve whatever had been wrong, but Weiss... well she hadn't been as enthusiastic as Ruby was.)

Back to the wedding, she sees a flicker of pale hair and before she knows it she is _ gone _, outside the performance area and sitting with her back against the wall and head in her arms. 

(She should have expected this, she should have expected this, she should have expected this, she should have expected this, she should have _ expected _ this, _ she should have expected _\--)

"Ruby!" And it's her sister's voice, warm and chastising and familiar. (But it is also panicked and scared and _ hurtful _\--)

"Yang?" She croaks, then winces because she sounds so weak and defeated, but she _ isn't _ weak. Ruby Rose isn't fragile or frail or even a little bit _ not strong _ \-- "Yang." She says again, and for a moment it's as if she was _ begging _ , for an item or emotion or reprieve to something she _ doesn't _ know the name of.

"Hey-o girly, I'm here." Yang whispers, and her voice is soft. Her metal hand reaches out and cups Ruby's burning cheek, and the younger sibling immediately relaxes into the metal. (It reminds her of Crescent Rose, of all the weapons and machinery that she loves-- something Yang had figured out a week into actually using it.)

Ruby starts to feel better, starts to thinks she can get up again-- when the singing starts.

She's fallen before she's even had a chance to get up.

It is so, _ so _ beautiful. ( _ So beautiful _.)

The lyrics escape her, because even though she knows that Weiss spoke German, she'd only just started learning when Ruby decided to end things. 

The sounds are too much, the way they wrap around Ruby so gently, and if she closes her eyes she could almost see Weiss-- her smile, her eyes, the brilliance that seeped from every action she had every seemed to take. She could see the freezing storms and blizzards, could smell snow and water and pavement-- all accompanied by the sound of her ex-partner singing her heart out. 

(But she wasn't singing her heart out, not really, all Weiss was doing was saying words in a specific tone and melody-- something Ruby could believe, could convince herself to believe, before the lyrics changed to Common.)

It hurts even more now that she knows what she's saying, and from the look on her sisters face she could tell that Yang feels the same.

_ "--your eyes of earth, closed and striking mine--" _

Ruby shuts them up tight, absorbing the sounds of Weiss' voice, committing the experience to memory. 

_ "--they are filled with mirth, wrapped around a rose vine--" _

And then her tears escape from her eyes. For a moment she had believed that she might be able to get over her, get over all this pain and sorrow that accompanied seeing anything that could be linked to Weiss Schnee, but she was wrong-- so, so, very wrong.

Yang looks at her, like she knows what she is thinking, as if she knows exactly how and why Ruby has lost hope, and pulls her in close-- whispering the lyrics of the song into her ear until it ends, drowning out the voice that haunted her for what felt like centuries.

"--_ the moonlight softens my skin, it's strange how much you matter _ \--" Yang mouths. "-- _ when your lips feel like sin, it is only me that remains shattered _\--"

(--But, anyway--)

Ruby was desperate and Weiss was stubborn.

Or was it the other way around? Was Ruby the stubborn one, Weiss the desperate one? Was it the both of them? Or does one embody both and the other neither? Do the words fit them at all? Ruby doesn't know anymore she _ doesn't _\--

(--_ remember _ . She doesn't remember. She kind of _ hates _ that. But anyway, she also _ doesn't _\--)

\--_ know _. Ruby Rose doesn't know Weiss Schnee anymore. It's a startling revelation, and she finds herself less hurt and more confused on the how of that statement.

(Of course she's still _ hurt _ \-- it's just that the question of _ why _ and _ how _ she let Weiss slip through her fingertips haunted her more then felt healthy, and she was doing her best to take the steps to become in a... _ better _ state of mind.)

She's brought back to a conversation she had with her ex-girlfriend once, in the middle of their relationship. They sit together, curled up into one another while they watch a documentary on Dust. (Ruby may know a lot about the subject, but it's who Weiss lives and breathes it. When they were still together, she always used to talk about all sorts of theoretical ideas and concepts that the Schnee scientists have proposed to her father.)

"Hey Weiss?" Ruby had asked, arm wrapped around her girlfriend's strong shoulders. "Did you like me in school?" 

"I detested you." Weiss said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, "You nearly blew us up and off of the_ Beacon cliffs _\--"

Ruby pouts, because even though she knows it's true she had thought the former-heiress had gotten over that already. "_ Weiss _." She had whined, and it came out a little too high, making both women cringe slightly. "That's not what I meant!" Then she giggled, just a little bit. The thought is a little funny to her, what if they had been pining for each other since the moment they had met? (Or the moment Weiss learned not to despise her?) What if they had been similar to her sister and Blake, what if their names were written in the stars? Etched into eternity like the blinding sun and shattered moon?

"Well then what did you mean?" Weiss' voice is softer, and her tone caresses Ruby's skin. The blue eyed girl shifted, and Ruby remembered the feeling in her chest as Weiss burrowed herself a little deeper into her side. 

"Like, you know--" Ruby knows that she's scrambling, but she can't quite help it. Besides, who better than to scramble for than the woman she loves? "_ Like _, like."

"Did I hold romantic feelings for you, do you mean?" Weiss' voice is dry, but there is _something_ _there_\-- something she's actively fighting to hold back from her expression. If it was any other person, they would have dropped the conversation and been done with it, returning to the documentary. But Ruby had long since accepted that technically, she wasn't like any other person, at least not to the woman next to her. (Even now, she still had trouble with her ambition to become a huntress and desire to fade into the background.) So she hears the slight tremor in Weiss' voice, sees the brush of hesitation in the way her chin lowers and mouth twitches.

They have always been attuned to each other. They're _ partners _, after all.

"Yeah!" Ruby is careful, oh-so _ very _ careful not let Weiss know that she has noticed the feelings barely, yet beautifully brushed up against her features. Like a sculptor or a painter or whatever had molded their creation with the precision only a machine could have-- ancient and breathtaking and _ timeless _.

Weiss relaxes, and Ruby can see her face even now that she is gone, scars poking down her eye and into her cheek, barely kissing the bridge of her nose. 

"I don't know." She had said, and Ruby had believed her immediately. "I was... difficult then. I still _ am _ difficult." Weiss admitted, shrugging a little. "The way I felt things, the way I still feel things-- it's as though I never notice if something essential is missing or wrong." Her voice was soft, and she had turned a little, mumbling the words into Ruby's collarbones. "I suppose it's as long as I don't see it, don't know what's missing, it's like I didn't feel it." 

Ruby can feel the other huntress frown into her skin, pale lips pulling at the flesh of her neck just a little bit.

"That's not quite right." Weiss had said after a moment of silent deliberation, "I don't know how to explain it properly."

"Okay." Ruby whispered, her breath grazing the other woman's forehead. With some shame she had forgotten what it was like for Weiss, grappling with her emotions not because of childishness or obliviousness like her, but because she had never been allowed to really feel them before, only given the pale and pathetic shades her father had deemed appropriate. "That's alright."

The pale-headed huntress hummed. "I think..." And she hesitated, because Ruby knew she couldn't stand it when Weiss started her own sentences like that. "I think that if I did like you back then, I would have afraid-- but I wouldn't have known why, I wouldn't have acted with you like I did Neptune, because you're _ you _\-- my partner and my best friend." Weiss' brow furrowed, the way it did when everything she was thinking and saying was too hard for her to admit to herself, when she didn't want to be doing whatever it was she was doing. "I would probably believe I was at fault for some mistakes, as if my feelings were a burden maybe."

Ruby started. "How do you know all this?" There is something about her partners words that feels like an admission of guilt, like she's apologizing for something so convoluted and confusing, not a single soul could ever even begin to comprehend it. The thought makes something cold and painful bubble up in her chest, and for a moment a single heart breaking thought plagues her-- _ she knows this because she feels this way now, right now she feels sick and wrong and terrible. _

She still saw the smile on Weiss' face in her mind sometimes, a haunted and exhausted motion, and Ruby remembers feeling it as a confirmation of one of her worst fears.

"Because that's how I felt just before we started dating... though I imagine teenage me would have handled it with much less grace then adult me." She flipped her hair (but only a little bit, because she didn't want Ruby to drown in the pale white strands _ again _) the motion sassy and over-confident. 

The relief was instantaneous. Weiss used to feel this way-- _ used to _ , but she _ doesn't _ any more. There is something at the back of her mind, a warning or an alarm bell going off at Weiss' confession, but she brushes it aside for the moment. She was tired of worrying.

Ruby shot her a dubious look, and playfully asked, "Weren't you a mess for like a week when you realized you loved me?"

Weiss' face burned bright, "_ Who told you _?!" She shrieked, grabbing a pillow and aiming for her shoulder.

Just like that, the tension in the room had broken, and the two had been back to less heavy hearted endeavors as Ruby laughed and Weiss protested.

The memory faded in time, and now she has no idea whether or not it's something to look back on with joy or great sorrow.

At both weddings, Ruby never knew quite how to approach Weiss. The first one she sort of just stood around awkwardly while Sun, Neptune, and her old partner talked-- trying not to grimace as Blake and Yang tried to integrate themselves into the conversation. The second one was a little better, Ruby didn't have to scramble to find something to talk about because Weiss seemed perfectly content talking to her siblings. (Who Ruby was very surprised to see. When they had been, eh-hem, _ involved _\-- Weiss hadn't been on the greatest terms with Whitley, their relationship static and more business than anything else.)

But then, the hunting trip happens.

The moment the dropship opens its large steel doors, Ruby sees it-- a glimpse into the new woman that Weiss Schnee had become. 

"--brother?" She catches the tail end of whatever Pyrrha was asking, but she gets a full view of the reaction her old partner had to the question. 

Her pleasant expression drops, her shoulders slumping slightly into Suns while an expression of pure _ steel _ solidifies itself in her body language and face. 

"The board was pressuring him to take the company from me--" Her eyes are calculated, drawing down to the weapon in her hands as she ran her fingers up the blade of Myrtenaster reverently, "--they did not plan on the fact that Whitley has placed his lot on me... Half have been fired, the other half scared into submission, you know--" Her smile is wicked, tone conversational, "--_ politics _." 

Ruby cannot move. 

_ What was she doing here? _

She sees a woman, someone she doesn't want to recognize, someone that she loves. (And that woman is so, so _ different _.) Her smile is bloodthirsty, eyes frosted over and crystalized, every movement she makes-- every twitch of her mouth or fingers, is threatening. It is as though a wolf lives in her smile, a snarl working its way through her throat and escaping her mouth. Ruby wonders what it would sound like.

Distantly, she is aware of the fact that she knows this woman, has been intimate with this facet of Weiss' desire for control and bitterness for the people she feel have deserted her-- because she has _ seen _ her before, seen her in the fight against her sister, seen her in the downfall of her father, seen her in the destruction of her mother-- Ruby Rose has seen this version of Weiss Schnee, the side that is not afraid to lash out and to _ hurt _, the side that both Jacques and Winter Schnee had a hand in creating, though the latter may not know it.

She is also aware of the fact that she saw the wolf in her eyes the day things ended, devouring any sense of emotion that she could glean from Weiss' eyes-- stopping Ruby from knowing what would happen next, if her ex-partner would be alright. But all she saw was glazed over in those cold iris' and before she could make the dive into the frozen lakes the look was gone, replaced by a resigned look that spoke of inevitability that told her Weiss had known she meant to end things soon.

(She still remembers Weiss' nod, the movement still graceful somehow-- like she had agreed to the abdication of a throne instead of leaving, she still remembers the look of utter calm on her face, "Alright." She had whispered in response, an admission, "Let me get my things.")

Then her sister makes a pun and _ that _ woman is gone.

In her place stands another person that Ruby recognizes-- someone she adores. 

(Not that Ruby hadn't adored the side of Weiss that reminded her of the bloody maw of a wolf, a fact that had scared her into action the year before.)

But the woman standing in front of her is familiar. It's hard to comprehend at first, the softness in Weiss' sudden smile, hidden by a badly timed groan and muffled by the palm of her gloved hands. It's like glancing into a window and seeing your childhood home, only the glass is cracked-- and the image is a little distorted. Kind of like a fading memory, or a fuzzy picture. It clicks in her mind suddenly, that she is seeing a different version of the woman's amusement, it's similar enough to the past that Ruby could recognize it, but it has been shifted enough by whatever Weiss has experienced that the image of her smile doesn't match up with the one in her mind.

While she deliberates over the lost pictures of Weiss in her mind, her sister takes the smile as a sign that it's okay to start bantering with her ex-teammate, and it's such a relief to see flickers of the person that they knew under the hard shell of indifference that shrouds her person like a ship in a storm. 

Then Sun puts a hand on Weiss' shoulder and it's like all that happened didn't matter. 

The co-CEO of the Schnee Dust Company is there instead of a huntress.

Ruby figures it out suddenly, the distinction-- the roll that Weiss had fallen in that allowed her to garner so much points with her family.

She had become the opposite of her father in belief, perhaps not in tactics or in thoughts, but what she held dear was vastly different than what Jacques Schnee did. Weiss had taken the burden out from under her family, the lingering question on who would continue to run the company instead of the cold man who ultimately betrayed the name-- and Winter and Whitley had _ let _ her.

They had seen the company as Weiss once had, a burden-- and they had allowed her to become Atlas, lifting the sky on her bare shoulders with her siblings acting as Heracles, occasionally adjusting the weight of the world before ultimately dumping it back on her once more. 

Though Ruby had not seen this woman in a year, she knew how Weiss thought-- knew how self-sacrificing Weiss didn't know she was. 

They were partners, after all.

Blake rushes forward, giving Weiss a hug and holding a soft worded conversation while Ruby says hello to team JNPR. 

"I didn't know they'd be here." She says to Nora and Ren, watching them both with barely concealed suspicion.

"In their defense," Jaune interjects, "Sun and Weiss didn't know you'd be here either."

"You parent trapped them." Yang snickered. "Funny, until Ice-Queen finds out and freezes your balls off."

Jaune's face paled. "But it wasn't _ my _ idea." He interjected weakly, "Nora thought--"

"It won't matter what Nora thought." Ruby hummed teasingly. "_ You're _ the team leader, _ you _ let it happen, so Weiss will shift the blame from her to you."

"_ Ruby _!" He whined. "You're scaring me!"

"That's enough sis, I thought I taught you better than that." Yang patted her on her shoulder, bunching up her hood and pulling it over her head. "_ There _, now nobody can see you laugh at Jaune."

Ruby grinned, her vision momentarily obscured by her hood.

(In that moment, though she didn't know it, she looked so much like her mother that Yang had to move forward and grab Blake, if only so she could avoid looking at Ruby and seeing someone else in her eyes and carefree smile.)

Yang exited the ship, pulling on Blake, leaving only Weiss, Sun, and Ruby standing there. 

"Uh." She started. "Hey Weiss." Ruby sent her a small wave, only to inwardly cringe at her own awkwardness.

Weiss opened her mouth, in surprise or to say something she would never know-- only for Sun to be there in an instant, wrapping an arm around her and greeting Ruby with a not-so-subtle warning. "Hey Ruby!" His grin was genuine, but there was a lingering disappointment in his eyes that she knew was for her. "Let's head out, Snow Empress! Lot's of Beowolves to kill!"

Both partners lock eyes for a moment and Ruby sees something in Weiss' eyes thaw, something that made her chest ache and throat hurt-- so she turned away, looking down at the ground before she could burst into tears.

The rest of the trip goes terribly, predictably because of the rocky start.

First Weiss and Ren get separated from the rest of them, then they got trapped in a large dome, attacked by a multitude of Grimm, and somehow accidentally leveled the roof of the place on top of themselves. 

That wasn't even getting into what RBY and JNP got into while they were trapped. 

Regardless, Ruby was on top of the dome quick, standing atop of the open ceiling and taking a deep breath-- readying herself to use a large portion of her aura. 

_ 5... 4... 3... 2... 1 _

Ruby Rose runs. 

She's always been good at that. Always been good at going fast, hyperactive and spastic as she was. 

Perhaps if she were anymore considerate and self reflective, she would wonder _ why _ exactly it's easier to manipulate the wind that is so integrated into her soul by _ running _ of all things. But Ruby Rose isn't those things, she is brave and instinctive, she will do all she can without dissecting herself in the process.

(Unlike Weiss Schnee, who would cut off her own arm just to grip it in her other hand and slap whoever had offended her in the face)

So yes, Ruby Rose ran, because that is what she was good at.

She pumped her legs, moving in circles, and using the wind to gather every stone falling-- (saving two from crushing Ren and five from crushing Weiss.) With her heart in her throat, she banks of the ground, pulling to a stop-- and claiming every ounce of aura she has left in her reserves, blasts the storm forward. She heaves, pitch her scythe forward and making it stab the ground hard-- digging into the ice (wait, _ ice _?) and holding on so that the tornado doesn't take her along with the rocks. 

She slumps into Crescent Rose, hiding a groan into the pommel. 

Storms were always the hardest on her aura. 

"Nice one." A voice says from behind. Blake smiles at her, the grin on her face making a bit of warmth fill her body despite the sudden chill in the air. "No injuries, I hope?"

"I overexerted myself a little." She admitted sheepishly. "It won't happen again."

"Hmm." Blake hummed, and tugged her toward where Sun was fussing over Weiss.

For a moment, watching as Weiss smiled at the monkey faunus, awkwardly patting his shoulder as his eyes got teary-- She believed that everything would be alright, and that everyone would move on fine.

But that was an hour before she was dragged kicking and screaming from her sister and her old partner, able to sense the feeling of finality in the air.

Weiss had told them to leave.

Yang had insisted on staying.

Though she hoped, she feared the worst.

It's while she's being held down by the combined forces of Sun and Blake, that she feels it-- sees it.

It is ice, and it is all encompassing. 

Blue spikes reach for the sky, their hands warped and sharp tinged with a strange icy smoke that seeps from its crystallized pores. It is a magnificent, deadly thing-- and it may be the eternal tomb of two of the people she loves the most.

She stares, and her eyes begin to burn-- 

Growls of Grimm mean nothing, not when silver mirrors reflect their own darkness upon them, and they turn to stone, defeated by the impurity they hold deep inside of them, where they hide the empty craters their souls should have rested.

When the light clears, only the stone statues of the creatures of darkness and the icy smoke of the frozen cage that entraps Weiss and Yang remains.

She slumps to the floor, her hands gripping the floor, ripping the frozen grass out of the Earth-- suspended in that moment, where the pain feels utter timeless, Ruby Rose screams.

The sound is haunting and horrifying. It is pain incarnate, gripping you by your neck and choking-- forcing you to look upon the destruction that has been wrought, forcing you to hear the noise of despair, the scream tears open a hole in the world, forcing you to look upon the throne of a long forgotten god, and see that it is empty.

The moment ends, and the mist clears.

Flames lick at the edges of her vision, and her head snaps up-- and she sees it. 

Her sister always loved a little drama. 

(Yang Xiao Long burns gold, and it is though she is the sun itself, Apollo and Helios have blessed her with the flame of their life blood, and she has grown into it better than they ever could have dared to dream for.)

Blonde hair floats upwards, flaming and yellow, and Ruby sees a bundle of red and white in her arms. Yang is bleeding from a wound on her forehead, and anyone miles away could tell that her eyes scorch the Earth in their lava-like tones.

(Weiss Schnee burns blue, and it is though she is the cold itself, Jack Frost and Father Winter have cursed her with the freezing winds of their bone, and she has shrunk into herself more than they ever could have dared to hope for.)

The bundle of white and red in her sisters arms does not move, but even from far away Ruby can tell that Weiss' clothes have been ripped to shreds-- the ice escaping from her body in violent spikes tinged with blood.

Her sister walks forward, and it is as if time slowed down. Each step Yang takes is another reason to keep fighting.

And so Ruby does.

* * *

Weiss Schnee wakes up to the inquisitive purple eyes of Yang Xiao Long. 

"Hey." She says. "Wanna tell me what's going on?" The blonde asked, tilting her head.

The pale-headed woman takes a moment to take in her surroundings. They're not in a hospital, or in Schnee manor. The room she's in is warmer toned than either of those places, reds and yellows and brown; reminding Weiss of the distinct aura of _ 'coziness' _ that surrounds the season of Fall. 

"Why do I have the feeling..." She starts, her voice too raspy for her comfort, "That the second you tell me where we are, the desire to murder you will increase?"

Yang doesn't smile, but there is a sheepish lilt in her voice as she says, "Welcome to your old home, I guess. Wish the welcome was warmer, but you did almost kill everyone."

Weiss frowned. "What do you--" Flashes of ice, pain, blood. "--oh." 

"Yeah. _ Oh _." Yang made a face, sounding slightly mocking. "Now. Let's start again." She leaned forward, angling herself so she leaned her cheek on her metal arm. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Is Sun here?" She deflected. "If he is, I'd like to see him."

The huntress frowned. "I can get him for you..." She looked down at her hands. "I just want to know why all that happened." Yang stood up, rubbing her face tiredly. "I had to carry you back to the ship, you know, I had to melt the ice that had encased you and pick _ you _ \-- way _ too _ bloody and sickly-- off the ground."

"I didn't ask you to." Weiss snapped back. "I would've been _ fine _." And she would have been! It would've taken a while, but she would have woken up on her own, and as long as she found something to signal help she would've gotten out with a couple scratches and a bad case of an aura shattering. She was far too tired to even consider being civil with anyone right now, and even though she knew she was being unreasonable she refused to take it back. 

"Yeah maybe." Yang shrugged. "But it doesn't change the fact that you nearly died, Weiss-- the ice was _ piercing _ through nearly every inch of you, not to mention you nearly took a lot of people with you."

"I told them to _ leave _ ." She hissed, sitting up quickly. "I _ told _ all of you." Her words did nothing to soothe the burning guilt that ebbed in the back of her mind.

Yang stared, her silence louder than any comeback she could have responded with. She moved toward the door, before pausing momentarily. "I _ am _ happy you're alright, Weiss. Even if it sounds like I'm angry with you." Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

She slumped back into the bed, grunting softly. Being standoffish with Yang had taken too much energy out of her. Weiss looked down at herself, blinking in confusion. Her arms were wrapped in bandages, and she was wearing an unfamiliar pale blue shirt. The white medical tape was stained with what looked like dried blood. 

The former-heiress tilted her head and sighed, reaching for the nightstand where clean bandages lay discarded. 

She winced in pain, moving her hand back and clutching it to her chest. Now that she could focus on it, her body was actually in a lot of pain.

Not an entirely unexpected outcome, considering what had happened the last time her aura had gone out of control. Gritting her teeth, she didn't hear the sudden sound of footsteps outside the faded wooden door.

It opened up suddenly, revealing a blonde man with an odd look in his blue eyes. His gaze met hers, and for a moment the exhaustion in the air was so notable and heavy, that Weiss thought they both might fall over.

"Hey." He grinned, though it was a tired and anxious thing. "Need a little help with that?"

"Please." She said, looking down at her dirty bandages. "I... uh." Weiss met his eyes a little sheepishly, "I can't... I can't really move without--"

"I've got you, Weiss." He said softly, moving forward, gently helping her sit up. "Are you sure you want _ me _ to help you? I can call up one of the girls, maybe Blake--" His face colored a little bit at the look she shot him. "--yeah okay, I'll help you now."

Sun was careful as he helped her remove her bandages, his hands slow and movements steady. She was thankful for him, knowing full well that the situation might have been a tad bit uncomfortable for him. After all, he had to help bandage her up the _ last _ time her aura lashed out, and she was in a similar state to this one. Sun stayed silent the entire time, hissing in sympathy when he saw a particularly bad burn-- an ice burn, funnily enough.

Weiss breathed in and out, helping where she could-- but ultimately remaining unable to do much. She felt helpless like this, injured and stiff bodied, vulnerable in such a way that relentlessly pushed her forward; nearly tipping her over into a decent of tears and anger.

"There we go." Sun whispered softly, leaning her back onto the brown toned pillow cases. "All done now, Snow Empress."

She moves her hand, clutching the bottom of his shirt in a sudden fit of desperation. "Sun." She whispered. "What happened?"

He ran a hand through his hair, drawing her eyes to his face and for the first time taking in the dark circles under his eyes. The monkey faunus sighed, and the sound was soft and defeated. "Okay." He said, and proceeded to tell her everything.

Later, Weiss had understood everything that happened-- how Yang had melted the ice protruding from her body, how Ruby destroyed all of the Grimm, and how all anyone could do for her was wait until one of her family members to arrive and help her because nothing Jaune did seemed to do much. (Which made sense, considering the fact that her aura had shattered, leaving Jaune with nothing to amplify; thus not being able to help heal her.)

"Who came?" She asked. 

"Everyone." Sun said tiredly. "Not just you Schnee-dudes, but team CVFY and the rest of your old team. Oh plus Oscar and Neptune."

"Oh." Weiss mumbled. "I didn't think--" She cut herself off, allowing a moment to be taken to calm down. "I hadn't... I hadn't expected that."

"Hmm." He nodded, "I don't know how you couldn't." 

Sun stood up and stretched, moving toward the door. "Get some rest, yeah? I know your family wants to see you, but you _ did _ almost die." He smiled, rueful. "I know that you probably won't fall asleep, but it'd be wrong of me not to tell you."

Weiss bristled, suddenly determined to sleep, if only to spite her friend.

"I'll take care of the company this month." Whitley said later, straightening his dark gray tie. He wore a three piece gray suit, with red and white accents offset only by the blue of his eyes and snowflake emblem on his shoulder. Though his hair is cowlicked and messy looking, his clothing remains impeccable; the only sign that he'd been stressed a wrinkle or two in his dark gray slacks and red dress shirt. Weiss eyed her brother for a moment, scanning his body and face for any sign of discomfort or nervousness.

She finds nothing at first--

But then his fingers linger on the knot of his tie, and she knows that he is overcome with stress.

Oscar, who had joined them, nudges Whitley's hand gently. He shoots Weiss a helpless look, pleading that she help him somehow.

He's dressed in a suit he doesn't look quite comfortable in, no doubt due to his dislike of most formal things. His long coat was orange, tiny green flecks weaving up and around the sleeves. Though his tie is also green, orange is the most pronounced color that he wears, something that Weiss approves of-- if only so that he can keep Ozpin separate from himself. 

"Winter can do it." She interjected after a moment of consideration, looking to her right where her older sister sits, holding Weiss' hand close. "Can't you?"

The eldest says nothing, averting her gaze. "The board will not approve."

"Who cares what your stuffy board thinks?" Oscar protested, "I mean, they might be nice enough I guess, but they did just try and pull a coup-- they can't really do _ much _ in fear of the backlash they'll get."

"He isn't wrong." A woman says, sitting by the bay window, humming to herself softly. Her long hair pinned in a loose bun, silvery white tresses slipping from the top of her head and down her back. She holds an oddly shaped red pillow close to her chest, squeezing it every other minute or so while watching yellow and orange leaves billow around outside. Her dress is entirely blue, the only thing on her body differing the crimson scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. 

Willow Schnee is there, sitting and listening to the conversation, but she also isn't.

Weiss knows why, even if she doesn't want to.

"Perhaps." She begins, looking away from her mother, "All of you can run the company together? Just until my aura replenishes, then I have no problem taking the reigns once more."

Whitley and Winter both hesitate, sharing a glance and a conversation that Weiss can't quite make any sense of. 

They are saved by a knock at the door. 

"Enter." Whitley says quickly, making Weiss scowl and look away.

The door creaks open, a head of dark hair peering out from the corner of the faded wood. Ruby looks about as tired as the Schnee family feels, yet despite this each and every white haired person tenses at her entrance. Weiss wants to laugh at the hilarity of it all, certainty her seventeen year old self could never even begin to comprehend the genuine protectiveness the people around her feel in the face of an ex-girlfriend.

"Hey!" Ruby says, her voice forced-- like she was consciously attempting to sound cheerful. "I just wanted to let you guys know that lunch is ready, if you want it."

"Alright." Weiss nodded, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. "Thank you." Her words are as sincere as she can make them sound, and judging from the twitch of the silver-eyed woman's lips, are much appreciated. 

<_ Up, you go, little sister. _> Winter snaps out of her shock quickly, a raised eyebrow the only physical sign that she had heard her. She placed a hand on her back, helping her sit up and removed the blanket from her legs. At the sight of the bandages (clean, thank Remnant) Weiss finds herself feeling a tad too helpless. Winter sniffed indignantly, subtly shaking her sister back into focus. It's hard to stand for a moment, hard to breathe and move forward-- but Weiss does, if only so she can reassure her family that she is alright.

It's not like this is the first time her aura had exploded, after all.

Oscar moves forward to help hastily, gently scolding her when she winces from moving forward to quickly. "Come on, take a moment to breathe." He whispered supportively, patting her back. 

"Right." She starts. Weiss begins to move up again only to be halted by the sound of her mother saying her name. 

<_ Be careful. _ > Willow Schnee murmurs, moving up and away from the window. < _ While I'm gone, you'll be careful, right? _>

Weiss' jaw clenches. <_ Yes. _>

Her mother hummed, straightening out her back positioning her arms behind her. "Good." She leaves, passing Ruby with a grudging nod and gesturing for Whitley to follow her when they are done. He nods at the older woman, swallowing and allowing himself a moment to breathe, before falling in step behind her-- not bothering to look at the scythe wielder beside him. 

Oscar looks pained for a moment, clearly torn between wanting to help and wanting to follow Whitley. "It's alright," Weiss says squeezing his hand for a moment before letting go, "I know how much he means to you."

The man frowns. "But you mean a lot too." 

She snorts, giving him a slow and gentle hug. "Go make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." She whispers.

Oscar nodded hesitantly, leaving the room after giving Ruby a flustered goodbye.

"They're leaving?" Ruby mumbles to herself, frowning slightly.

"They have a company to run." Wiess and Winter say together. 

Ruby blinked in surprise, before averting her gaze, attempting to hide the slight pink color that had rose to her cheeks at being heard. "Right."

<_ Why didn't you go with them? _> Weiss asked her sister, ignoring the sudden sharpness in her head and stomach as she tries to stand. She takes a steadying breath. "I thought you might want to go back to Atlas, make sure the two of them run everything smoothly in my absence." After all, Wiess had meant for Winter and Whitley to leave, in hopes that they would just drag her mother off with them. Not that she was complaining about her sister's company, of course, she was actually quite touched that she decided to stick around.

"I... wanted to make sure you were alright." Winter stated grudgingly. "I made sure any and all appointments I had were rescheduled... though I won't be able to stay for long." Since her older sister now was called 'General Schnee,' often times neither of them had any real time to catch up and talk to one another. Weiss had Whitley, and on occasion even Willow, but she missed her sister with a fierceness that rivaled her most intense emotions.

"Do you guys need help?" Ruby interjects hesitantly, "Or I can go and tell everyone you'll be right down..." She trailed off, looking at the two of them hopefully.

Weiss hesitated. 

Winter, on the other hand, did not.

"Yes, if you do not mind, Miss Rose." The eldest Schnee accepted the offer diplomatically. "I would greatly appreciate help getting Weiss down the stairs." 

_ Wait, what? _

Ruby blinked for a moment, apparently just as surprised as Weiss was by Winter's words, before beginning to move forward. Gently, she gripped Weiss' wrist, adjusting her so that her arm was around her neck and then using the side of her that wasn't holding the other woman and wrapped an arm around her lower back. 

Winter stood back for a moment, "I will go inform everyone you two will be joining us." Then her sister was gone, slipping out the door and down the hall.

Weiss didn't quite know what to say.

"Um." Ruby whispered. "Let's get you downstairs then."

"Right." Weiss responded blankly. 

They moved forward agonizingly slowly, though it was not on purpose. It was difficult, being in close proximity to Ruby. Something had to give, Wiess _ knew _ that, she _ knew _ someone had to suck it up and be civil. But she didn't _ want _ to-- it was so hard staying stony and silent with this woman she used to love, because she wasn't quite used to being next to her and not being able to speak her mind. Which, considering they had broken up nearly two years ago, was quite pathetic. (At least, _ she _ thought it was pathetic.)

"How are you feeling?" Ruby asked, "I know that... well I know that it must've been pretty terrible, how everything happened and stuff." She was taking the first step, Weiss realized. Friendship was one foot closer, if she wanted to pursue it. (She _ didn't _ want to pursue it, but decided it would be better for everyone if she sucked it up and remained civil.)

"It." She stopped herself, visibly hesitating. "I was afraid Yang would get caught up in the crossfire." She admitted reluctantly. "I'm grateful that she wanted to stay, and that she helped..." Weiss forced herself to swallow, "..._ Carve _ my body from the ice--" (Ruby winced.) "--but I know that I would have been just fine whether she was there or she wasn't."

"I don't think that's fair." Ruby said softly, looking up to gaze at the ceiling. The only sign that she was empathetically disagreeing with Weiss the way her mouth opened a little wider and her words coming slightly slower than usual. "She just... I think she knew that you'd be fine, eventually." She looked down to stare into Weiss' eyes. "But she also knew that if she could lessen your pain, just a little bit, the risk was worth it."

Weiss chewed on her lip. She wanted to be stubborn about this, to pick a fight and make sure that Ruby knew that she didn't want to be there, but thought better of it. She didn't like it when other people threw tantrums, it would feel hypocritical if she allowed herself to pout and wallow like a child. "Yes." She murmured after a moment of looking away, meeting Ruby's eyes once more, "Yes I guess she did do that, didn't she?" Something throbbed uncomfortably in her chest at the look on her old partner's face.

"Yeah." Ruby nodded, dazed suddenly. "I knew you'd get it."

They looked away from each other at the same time.

When they finally made it downstairs, Weiss was hyper aware of the way they were touching. She found herself having to control the desire to scramble out of her arms too quickly. She was, however, pleasantly surprised at the amount of people in the dining and living room. JNPR sat on the couch, in comfort clothes, and looked very relieved when they saw Weiss up and about (even if she needed a little help to do it.) Her sister was speaking in low tones with Yang and Blake, who greeted her with tiny smiles, but turned back to Winter before she could say a word. Sun and Neptune sat together on one of the recliners, both successfully snoozing away, they're bodies wrapped around one another-- they looked so tired Weiss didn't even bother to entertain the thought of waking them to say hello. Coco was there with her entire team, and CFVY was quick to jump in and make sure she was okay.

"Hey-a sugar." Coco greeted, lowering her shades ever so slightly and sipping a cup of what looked like hot chocolate. "Heard you went and got yourself blown up."

"It was a tiny explosion, I assure you." Weiss retorted. "And technically the only thing that _ actually _ blew up was--"

"Now, now you two." Velvet sighed, "It's much too early to be getting into another one of your spats."

"We don't have spats." Coco protested. "This is how we enjoy each others company."

Weiss sniffed, doing her best to look distinguished covered in bandages and having to use Ruby as a crutch just to stand. "I agree, I'm quite fond of a little verbal sparring every now and then."

"_ Nerds _." Fox coughed into his hand, leaning into Yatsu, who was laughing softly.

Coco rolled her eyes, standing and setting her mug down. "Let me get a good look at her, flower girl, gotta check if she's brain damaged yet."

Ruby nodded, gently helping Weiss sit in a chair so the older woman could get a look. "Her motor system is a little off kilter, though I guess that's kind of expected."

Velvet hummed, following her wife forward to get a good look at the seated woman. "Your scabs haven't healed over yet." She mumbled, leaning down and checking the bandages around her neck and arms. "And you've been badly burned, though that isn't much of a surprise, considering what happened last time." She turned her head, "Jaune, can you do me a favor and come here real quick?"

"Velvet--" Weiss started, but was quickly shushed by Coco, who had taken it upon herself to check every inch of her.

The blonde man stumbled over hastily, looking parts relieved and worried about Weiss being up and about. "What's the matter?"

<_ Check if her aura's responsive _.> Coco said in what Weiss knew to be old French.

Jaune blinked for a moment, but nodded immediately. <_ Of, course. _> He gently placed a hand on Weiss' forehead, closing his eyes as he began to concentrate. His eyes snapped open immediately, "How-?"

"I think that answers that question." Weiss interjected immediately. She looked up into Jaune's blue eyes, "Yes?" _ Stay quiet. _ She silently begged, _ don't say a word. _

"Right." He mumbled. "Is that..." He looked hesitant, glancing at the people around them before coming to an understanding. "That's _ normal _, I hope?" 

She'd hoped he wouldn't ask any questions, but she was grateful that he hadn't said anything worrying out loud. "Happens after every big... _ response _." Weiss swallowed, doing her best to keep her voice even. (Though judging from the looks everyone shot her, she had not succeeded) 

"Weiss." He whispered softly. "It felt like..." His eyes implored her, and she knew that he would not truly be able to keep this secret. 

She sighed, letting her shoulders relax into her chair, and gestured for him to continue with a defeated nod. 

"There's hardly anything there." He stumbled over his words. "Hardly _ anything _."

"It'll be back to full capacity by the end of the month." Winter interrupted. "A tad longer than last time." Her brow furrowed. "You need a vacation."

"That's not all she needs." Coco snorted, grinning and shooting Weiss a lazy wink. "You should be getting a good pair of--"

"_ Coco Adel _!" Velvet cut her off, looking properly scandalized. "That is not how--"

"It's Adel-Scarlatina now." Coco drawled, smile softening at Velvet's flushed face.

"Yes, yes, that's all very domestic." Winter rolled her eyes, "Now to the matter at hand--"

"You know, this is why we didn't send you a gift for the holidays." Coco interjected playfully, only to have Winter outright ignore her.

"--Weiss, it's time we head back to Atlas." Her older sister stated, though there was something in her eyes that could only mean trouble. "Unless you'd rather stay here, of course, Xiao Long and Belladonna have agreed to house you, if you so wish it."

"I'd rather not." She stated flatly. "I have things to do, Winter, you know that."

"Be that as it may, I do believe that staying here would be the best for you." Her sister said, voice softer this time-- and Weiss managed a slight look at the worry that she was feeling. "Let us take care of Atlas, it'll be the same when you get back, Remnant knows that it takes a millennia for things to actually change in that city." Winter rolled her eyes, annoyed by past attempts at making things different. Weiss could only sympathize.

"Still, I can't just--"

"You can." Yang interjected. "Do me this favor, okay? I just want to make sure everything healed up alright."

"But--"

"I think you should." Sun's voice said from the recliner, voice heavy with sleep. He rubbed at his eyes, absentmindedly running a hand through Neptune's hair. "You don't have a real reason not to." He pointed out.

That got Weiss thinking. Everyone would assume the worst in Weiss if she decided not to stay, and though sometimes she did not care for what others thought, something about letting down the people with her made her take a second. "If I do this..." She started slowly, ignoring Yang attempting to give Winter a high five, "...I'll only stay here a week at the most, it's enough time to have some aura at least, replenish."

"Two weeks." Winter bargained, "And you get to play with _ my _ personal experimental dust equipment."

Weiss frowned, she'd been wanting to mess with that stuff for weeks, but she wasn't willing to bend. "One week."

Winter returned her stare. "I'll teach you how to use multiple pieces of dust at one time."

"She's figured that out already." Ren pointed out from the couch, leaning into Nora and keeping his eyes on the television. "Quite reckless of her, as a matter of fact, considering where we were and what we were up against."

"_ Snitch _ ." Nora accused, laughing and swatting him on the chest. "I thought it was cool, Weiss." Nora winked. "Not dangerous _ at all _."

Winter pinched the bridge of her nose. (Everyone in the room was immediately reminded of Weiss by the action, and realized looking annoyed like that must be a family thing.) "Two weeks, you get to play with my dust, and I don't bother asking what happened."

"...Deal." Weiss relented, crossing her arms sullenly. The shortened amount of time wasn't worth any and all things Winter would do when she found out just _ how _ reckless she had been on that mission.

"_ Fantastic _ ." Winter mumbled sarcastically. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pretend not knowing what happened to my sister _ doesn't _ bother me." Her arms twitched, like she didn't know whether or not to move forward and hug her or not. She settled for positioning herself closer and placing a hand on her shoulder, bending down to look her in the eye. Glacier blue met glacier blue, and silent understanding passed between both sisters. < _ I... I love you. _> Fondness and fear swirled in her eyes like old friends, "Be careful."

"Oh, _ Winter _\--" She rolled her eyes as her sister moved to leave, "--whenever am I not?"

The older woman snorted, before shooting her one last intense glance, and walking out of the house-- something in shoulders set with defiance and determination. With a start, Weiss wondered if this was similar to the sight of Winter watching Weiss leave for Beacon, except the roles were reversed. And in that singe second, Weiss felt startlingly young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter in two because it was getting too long


	5. what am i to do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was she truly Atlas? Was she Atlas the man, trapped beneath an endless amount of burden and responsibility, of punishment? Or was she Atlas, the city, desperately reaching up and up and up-- hopelessly begging for reprieve and happiness, holding tightly to the small amount of wonderful things she already had? Was she both...? Could she be both? Pressed down mercilessly to the ground, crushed under the weight of the world around her, but reaching up and up and up anyway? Yes. She decided. I am more than the martyr that holds up the sky, more than the woman who wants happiness for those around her; who wants joy for those that deserve it. I am more. I am more. I am more.
> 
> And standing there, singing so loudly that it was impossible they would not know that she wished them endless delight in each other, Weiss Schnee truly was.
> 
> or
> 
> She loved Ren and Nora, truly she did. But that feeling had long since faded into a great like-- not an emotion as scorching as it was before, but warm nonetheless.
> 
> It was for that reason, and that reason only, that she sang for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop

Spending time with her old teammates as she recovered was, _ difficult _ to say the least. Perhaps it was because she had not been in close proximity to these women in two years, or perhaps it was because she was simply not used to being babied so explicitly after an injury-- either way, the result was the same, Weiss longing to be alone and doing her best to control the urge to bite the head off of anyone who approached her. On the brighter side of things, Sun and Neptune rented a room in a motel nearby, if only to make sure she didn't alienate any of her old teammates. They visited nearly every day, happily diverting the attention off of Weiss when questions that she _ really _ didn't want to answer came up. 

"You won't be able to keep this up forever." Neptune had warned her one afternoon, "You told them they'd have their answers, and they're beginning to lose patience."

"She was desperate though--" Sun protested, "--I mean, they got that guarantee for questions when Weiss was seconds away from accidentally killing them, she would've told them _ anything _ to leave!"

Weiss groaned into the palms of her hands. She wasn't wearing any gloves, the only ones she had were her late grandfather's and they were torn and tattered from the hunting trip. "I just hope I won't be sat down and forced to answer any questions... the last time I participated in an intervention, I found out that Blake was a faunus and almost ruined three different relationships." 

"You _ do _ tend to walk a fine line." Neptune considered, rubbing his chin, tone thoughtful. "If you like, we can tell them not to bother you." 

"But that might only encourage them." Sun pointed out, "I mean, what if they get even more curious? Our Snow Empress still has to spend another week here."

Weiss felt herself grimace, she had spent the first half of her time away doing her best to avoid everyone except Blake. (And even then she was still hesitant to interact with the faunus, worried that saying too much would convince Yang and Ruby that she was actively avoiding them and _ only _ them.) "Should I just sit them down, tell them they each get one question and then consider the matter closed?" She asked, words bordering on sarcastic. "Honestly, I'd rather not do anything at all."

She missed Sun and Neptune's shared look.

"_Well_..." Neptune began, "It isn't a bad idea to tell them they each get one question."

Sun nodded empathetically, "Yeah! You could, like, get them off your back-- you don't have to get too uncomfortable, and they feel like they have at least _ some _ information."

"You have to be joking." Weiss pleaded. "I don't want them to know _ anything_, why can't that be enough?"

"You know why." Sun said gently. "If you want them back, or if you want to stay _ civil _ with them--" (she winced at the word 'civil') "--then you have to do a little giving."

She opened her mouth to protest, to claim that she has never been good at _ giving_\-- when Neptune placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I know." He whispered softly, soothing her. "I know it's never been easy for you, Snow Angel. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

"Can..." She hesitated at the weak sound of her voice. "Can you two at least be there?"

Neptune and Sun exchanged matching grins. "Wouldn't dream of missing it, bro!" The chorused together.

Which eventually led her to the moment of ultimate truth. 

Weiss fingered her hair for a moment, flicking it out of her eyes and forcing herself to take a deep breath. She could do this, she _ would _ do this-- it isn't like she's opening up to strangers, she knows these people. (But Ruby, Blake, and Yang might as well have been strangers, she hadn't spoken to them in years; and that didn't even begin to cover the fact that she was barely comfortable even thinking about everything, never mind actually _ speaking _ about it.) She grimaced, running a hand over her face, the tips of her fingers brushing up against her scars.

Why was she even doing this again? Because she had some misguided desire to bond with them? Oh _ please_\-- she started sneering, there was no point in doing this, no logical reason she had to. (But that was wrong, because even though she'd never admit it, she might actually miss some of those dolts.) 

Weiss licked her lips, pushing her hair back and out of her face, combing through it with her fingers. The doorbell rang, like a death sentence, making her stiffen in her seat in front of the mirror of the room she was allowed to stay in. 

"Snow angel!" Neptune called from downstairs. "Have you decided yet?" The sounds of multiple pairs of feet pounding up the stairs. "You can't avoid confrontation forever!" 

She scowled, moving towards the door and wrenching it open, glaring down at where the men watched her with matching impish smiles. "I can try." She hissed out, the desire to trap them in one of her glyphs raged rampant, but she kept it down. Weiss knew that using her semblance might have negative impacts on her health if she used it when her body wasn't done healing. That, of course, didn't mean she wasn't willing to succumb to more juvenile means to prevent them from reaching her. 

Grabbing a pillow from the bed (and accidentally freezing it) she hurled it at the two men. 

"_Ouch_!" Sun shouted. "Snow empress, that hurt!" He held onto the item that had smacked his face, rubbing it onto his slightly red nose with a pout on his face. "Well... at least it's like an ice pack." He hummed, pressing it to his minor injury.

"That was a warning shot." She glowered, "Don't come any further or I swear by all things holy--"

"Sorry, bro." Sun said, voice muffled by the frozen pillow. "But you agreed."

"No I _ didn't_-!" She began to protest, only to be cut off by Neptune's snicker.

"You said you'd think about it." The blue haired man pointed out. "Thinking time is over, I'm afraid."

"Sorry, Weiss." Sun laughed, not looking sorry at all, "This is really all for your own good." He clasped his hands together, summoning three clones that quickly overwhelmed her. That didn't mean she wasn't going to give up easily, and when they walked down the stairs (Weiss hoisted over Sun's shoulder) it became apparent by the two husbands appearance. Neptune's clothes were messily arranged, hair in disarray with his signature yellow goggles askew on top of his head. Sun on the other hand, was sporting a broad grin, his white shirt ripped and loose red tie wrapped around his head.

"We did it!" The two men chorused, ignoring Weiss' indignant sputtering. 

Yang blinked, but didn't stop eating her breakfast, humming as she shoveled food into her mouth. "That's nice, boys." She spoke dully, turning away from them without much thought.

"Wait." Ruby frowned, pausing from taking another bite from her cereal. "Is this a prank? Are we being punked?" She leaned closer to Yang, whispering conspiratorially. "Am I missing the joke?"

Blake didn't even bother to look up from the book she was reading.

"Wow." Neptune started, expression scandalized. "We do all this work convincing her to talk to you guys and you don't even realize what's happening?" He shook his head, absentmindedly trying to fix his hair. "I don't think I've never felt more redundant."

"Snowww Empresss!" Sun started, setting Weiss down on the couch. "Did you even say anything to them?"

"No." She huffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "You can't make me."

"You know." Yang said, "I'm starting to see why Sun and Neptune get along with you so well." Weiss looked over at her raising an eyebrow. "Children like to play with each other." The blonde continued, expression flat.

"Rude." Sun protested. "All have you know I'm a respec-pec-table--"

"Respectable," Neptune corrected.

"--adult." Sun finished, complete with a glare that nobody could really take seriously.

"Right." Yang rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."

Weiss groaned, burrowing her face in her palms. "If _ Yang _says I've been acting like a child, I dread to see how my behavior has actually been."

"_Hey_!" Yang interjected, though she was mostly smiling.

"Right, well." Weiss sighed, leaning back lethargically. "Might as well get this over with." She gestured to Sun and Neptune, waving her gloved hand lazily. "Go ahead."

Sun frowned, looking conflicted. He wanted to make Weiss tell them herself, but he also wanted everyone to know already. "Weiss is willing to answer one question from each of you about what happened the other day."

Everyone in the room froze. 

_ (Ha. Froze... get it? Cause Weiss is kind of icy--) _

She shook the voice that sounded suspiciously like Yang from her head. 

"Only one question?" Yang asked, voice shaking despite her narrowed eyes.

"From each of you," Neptune explained, holding up three fingers. "Three questions in total, make them count." He looked tired, suddenly. "This was all that we could convince her to do." He rubbed at the back of his neck, shoulders going stiff. "It's... it's complicated-- but this is your chance to learn what happened, why it happened, and when it started." 

"Weiss did say that the question can't be too vague though, or she wouldn't_ dignify it with a response_.'" Sun added, using finger quotes. He sniffed a little, patting Weiss on the shoulder, attempting to get her to speak up. She said nothing, looking down at her hands; studying the threads of her silk gloves. "C'mon, Snow Empress." He whispered, "We can't answer everything for you."

"Quite right." She mumbled in response, looking back up at him. "Thank you, Sun."

He shot her halfhearted finger guns and a weak smile.

"You each have one question." She said quietly, looking up at her old team. Her jaw clenched, "Choose wisely."

Yang leaned her head back, hair falling out of her face. "Geez, Ice Queen." She sighed, running a palm over her cheeks. "Way to spring it on a girl."

"Should we even ask any questions?" Ruby looked around, voice quiet, she met glacier blue eyes. "I don't want you to share something you aren't comfortable with, Weiss."

She folded her hands in her lap, hiding the sudden trembling of her fingers. Was it so strange? She asked herself, that she would react this way to Ruby? Why did she have to be here for this? Why did Weiss have to expose herself? Why did Ruby have to care? Why did she have to be so kind to her? Why did Weiss even want to make things better? A bitter smile worked its way up her lips, it's kind of funny; the realization that though she had a seemingly endless amount of questions, she couldn't find the answer without providing information of her own. Perhaps it was a fair trade, she thought, even if it didn't feel like it.

"Ask your questions." She stated coolly, she sounded like her father when she spoke like this; detached and factual. Less of an actual person. "This is your chance." Weiss said, looking directly into silver eyes. "If you really want to know, you shouldn't squander it." In truth, Weiss didn't know what she wanted her to do. On one hand, Ruby could refuse to ask questions, refuse to make Weiss talk; which would be a relief-- but also a terribly heavy burden. On the other, she could ask, she could learn; and risk alienating Weiss further if she probed to much. By the look on her face, Weiss knew that Ruby had come to the same conclusions.

"Weiss." Ruby whispered gently. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

A stab of bitterness. Weiss forced herself to look away, her eyes dulling. "Just ask what you want to know." The sooner this was over, the sooner the week ended, and the sooner she was back home; back alone. Once upon a time, she might have dreaded the transition back to Atlas, but it showed how far she had fallen by the realization that she only craved it.

"Okay." The first word Blake had spoken to her all morning. "How did it happen?"

"You'll have to be more specific." Weiss responded, eyes flickering to the other woman. "There are... _ many _responses to that question, but I only desire to give you one."

Blake sighed, rubbing at the line of her jaw. "Okay." She closed her eyes, thinking for a moment. "What caused your aura to..." Blake carefully chose her words, "...lash out the _ first _ time."

"The first time?" Weiss asked, though her voice was distant. "An experiment... gone wrong, I suppose." Her fists clenched when she thought of that day, of her father's eyes; so similar to her own. "It was an accident, and I was a victim of circumstance." That wasn't lying exactly, but it did make what actually happened sound easier on the ears. Judging from the looks that Sun had shot her, he knew it to. She was thankful he hadn't said anything out loud.

"You said it had to do with dust." Ruby murmured.

"I did, and it does." Weiss nodded. "Though that wasn't a question, was it?" There was a bit of fondness in her voice, emotion that she was quick to stamp out. Weiss hoped that no one had noticed.

Ruby shot her a small, if a little sheepish, grin.

Yang sighed, pushing her hair back and tying it into a ponytail. "Alright, Ice Queen... I'll humor you." A small bit of red bled into her purple iris'. "Don't expect me to play fair." A small, but noticeable, degree of competitiveness altered her face; making her features sharper and more focused.

"I never do." Weiss said with a shrug, the tiny quirk of her lips distorting her scars. "Go on then, brute."

She snorted in response, placing her prosthetic against her chin, as if stroking a comically long beard. "Does your aura react like that when experiencing something similar to emotional turmoil?" Yang asked, eyes shrewd as they stared into her own. "I saw the bathroom at the wedding, you know."

_ Shit. _

"Did you?" Weiss asked her softly.

"A quick peek, it felt colder than the rest of the room, and I was confused. Then I saw the broken mirror... the frost covering the walls." Yang whispered. "I didn't know what to make of it at first, perhaps you'd had an accident with dust? But that made no sense, you always drilled it into our heads how important it was to be careful with it." She looked shaken. "What I found was super weird; like it hadn't meshed too well with my aura... it was the same on the trip, you froze some things, and everything around me felt incredibly... _ other_." She shrugged, "It took me a moment to realize that both times there had been, an _ emotional _ factor, and well... at the wedding, you did say you were stressed." 

"Bravo." Weiss brought her hands together in a slow clap. "You put the rest of us to shame with your investigative skills."

"Did you really mess up the bathroom, Snow Empress?" Sun pouted.

"I payed for it." Weiss shrugged. "Sorry." She thought for a moment. "In my defense it was a _ dreadful _ looking bathroom--"

"Don't avoid answering the question, Weiss." Yang interjected. "So is it-?"

"Sometimes caused by stress on the mind? Yes, but so are most things." She said, crossing her arms. "It's like... gaining control of your semblance." Weiss remembered one of the Atlas parties she'd accidentally summoned a Grimm. "I can usually control it..." She looked Yang in the eye then, completely serious. "By limiting all contact with things deemed a vulnerability."

"Like what?" Yang choked out.

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "You already asked your question." Their gazes remained locked, neither willing to look away. 

Yang and Weiss had always been at odds with one another; they got along fine, in fact they had always very close in. But that did not change the reality that they were on opposite ends of a spectrum, unlike Blake, their differences did not compliment one another, they were not yin and yang, but fire and ice. Opposites, contrasting-- eating at one another endlessly, a good friendship; good for them both, but they had such contradictory views and mannerisms that sometimes it felt as though they were competitors for a competition neither could put their finger on. Sometimes Yang would succeed, would turn Weiss to her point of view-- show her what brightness looked like in the heat of the flame, a beautiful existence. But sometimes... sometimes Weiss won, and Yang would be wrenched into the cold by the daughter of frost, she would be shoved into a chill; a feeling so cold never felt before, and gently led to what darkness looked like in the frozen confines of ice.

But... they were similar enough to know that all they wanted was for the other to understand what they had seen, why they believed that they were right, or that the other was wrong. 

So Yang should understand now, why Weiss didn't want to do this, why she hadn't wanted to chance it. (She'd already accidentally frozen the pillow she'd thrown at Sun... already allowed herself the mistake of losing part of her control.) 

"Fine." Yang whispered, closing her eyes and leaning back into her chair. "Fine."

"You're next, Rose." Weiss said, then immediately regretted saying the words when Ruby's head snapped to hers. (Perhaps referring to her by her last name had been an error? She wouldn't do it again, if that was the case.)

"I..." Ruby trailed off, fingering slightly spiked locks. Briefly, she wondered if that was a natural behavior of the black red strands, or if Ruby had simply gone to bed without removing the product from her hair. "_Weiss_." Her voice sounded desperate, rough and grating on the cold deep inside of her. "Weiss I _ can't_."

"Hmm...?" Her fingers twitched. How was Ruby expecting her to respond? Perhaps she would look at her and expect Weiss Schnee; business woman of Atlas, ruthless and flexible. Or perhaps she would expect... Weiss; _ huntress_, compassionate and rash. How did _ she _ want to respond? Weiss asked herself, it didn't matter what Ruby was seeing; but what she desired to do herself. It was too difficult a question, asking herself what she was going to do. "Why not?" She questioned Ruby, maybe if she had a little more information she would be able to satisfy her desire for self-control, satisfy her overwhelming amount of worry, and find a clear path to take. "What do you want to know?"

"Weiss." Her voice sounded exasperated. "Forcing yourself to give information to us isn't what we wanted."

"I don't understand." She said, because she didn't. Maybe she could have, if she pushed herself, or maybe she used to-- but Weiss couldn't find it in herself to comprehend what Ruby had meant. She shrugged, "Perhaps... I've been too hasty?" Yes, that could be it. Maybe it was too soon to be talking about things like feelings and potentially lethal medical conditions. After all, it had only been a week since Weiss had learned to talk to them again, and even then it was stilted and awkward. Friends confided in each other, Weiss realized, house guests said 'no, thank you' to the extra pillows. 

But one look in Ruby's eyes destroyed that thought process too.

"No, Weiss." Blake whispered gently, "That isn't what she's saying." She appeared calm, collected; but there was a certain understanding in her eyes. The type that said Blake and Weiss had been in the same boat, once; unsure how to be a person, how to accept the emotions that raged around inside them and others.

Oh. It's one of _ those _ things. One of the understandings that Yang and Ruby had been so adamant on Blake and Weiss learning.

"I still don't understand." She admitted. _ Nor do I have any reason to, _ she thought.

"I think they just wanted you to trust them." Sun scratched at his chin, blonde stubble had began to grow; he'd have to shave again soon. (Sun disliked facial hair, for some reason, though Weiss could never quite understand why, surely he'd still look every bit as handsome with a bit of a mustache or beard? But she never voiced her thoughts.) "I think we all misunderstood... oops."

Neptune sighed. "I knew there was a reason we shouldn't have done this." He looked down at his shoes, crossing his arms and straightening his shoulders. "I just couldn't think of an argument that made sense..." Something flashed in his eyes. "Emotion is so hard to get, sometimes."

Sun and Weiss made sounds of agreement.

"Okay." Yang said, "Now I've seen _ two _ reasons you all hang around each other." She shrugged. "The three of you are basically emotionally confused children."

"Yeah." Sun agreed listlessly. "Birds of a feather, and all that."

"Okay." Weiss said. "Still confused."

"Ummm." Neptune hummed in thought. "Think of it like this, Snow Angel; by forcing yourself to share information that you don't want to, when you aren't ready-- you aren't really showing your trust in them... only your desperation to get out of an uncomfortable situation." He looked at Yang to affirm his thoughts, when she shrugged and shot him a blank look, he reluctantly continued. "I think it's like... you're supposed to share when you want to, when you're okay with it... _ like_-!" Neptune looked physically pained then, "--like _ before,_ I guess."

_ Before? _

_ Before...?_

Oh, before.

Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I think I'd like to return to Atlas, now."

"Ha. _ Mood_." Sun snorted. "Of course, instead of Atlas, I'm thinkin' of Vacuo."

Neptune and Weiss hummed. 

"I'm very tired." Sun said suddenly. "I think I want to go home." 

"I won't stop you." Weiss looked up at him sharply, a serious look in her eyes. "Go rest, Wukong." When he opened his mouth to protest, another glare from her was enough to get his shoulders to visibly deflate. "Neptune, you can go too." She looked to her other side, where the man in question was fiddling with his blue hair. "I... I appreciate the two of you coming, even if it was an ultimately useless effort on my part."

Neptune shot her finger guns. "No problem, Snow Angel." He winked.

Weiss couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her mouth, she moved the back of her hand to cover the smile on her face, but it was too late; everyone had already seen it. "Go home, boys." 

"Wait." Sun said, hurrying close to her. He lifted Weiss from the couch, wrapping her up in a fiercely protective hug. "Stay safe, Weiss." He dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. It felt oddly intimate, him using her real name instead of a nickname, and the way he had held her tightly, so very fondly.

"Sap." She chastised, though there was an audible strain in her voice. 

"Bye, Weiss." Neptune mumbled when Sun had let go of her, pulling her into a much gentler hug.

That was a difference in those two, Sun loved like he was afraid he'd never see her again. He'd bring who he cared for into his atmosphere with a warm burst of intensity, of pure undiluted affection. He'd grasp onto her like he feared that there would be no next time, that the interactions he had with her were the last; so he always had to make them count. Neptune, on the other hand, loved like he was afraid he'd never do it again. He'd hold her with much softer arms, careful and tender, like he was afraid that the feelings he had would disappear in an instant, that the next time he saw her there would be no familiarity, no fondness; so he always had to make sure that she knew right there, in that second, that she was loved. They were the same too, though, in a way that they were afraid that their interactions with her and each other would be their last. It was a heartbreaking sentiment.

"So dramatic, the two of you." She whispered as carefully lead them to the front door. "Making me worry like that... don't throw yourself in a situation that'll hurt you just because it hurts me."

Sun sniffled. "Can't stop me."

"No." Affection. "No I suppose I can't, can I?"

When she returned to the living room, her old teammates were staring at her.

"I don't suppose you want to ask that last question?" Weiss asked, voice much softer than before. Sun and Neptune did that to her, she realized, softened her edges with their devotion and intimacy. "I'm much more inclined to answer it now than I was before." Not to mention that if Ruby still refused, she'd no longer feel like she owed them something.

Ruby smiled at her, lopsided and familiar. "Just one, are you really singing at Ren and Nora's wedding? I just wanted to know if you'd decided on the song, Ren's been bugging me about it all week."

"That's two questions." Weiss said. "But the answers are yes and no."

Blake's lips quirked upwards. "Are you sure you don't want to add 'sings at weddings' to your business card?"

"I've been doing that a lot lately, haven't I?" She thought back to Velvet and Coco, to Sun and Neptune. "Two in the span of one year, plus whenever Ren and Nora decide to have theirs." She shook her head, remembering what her older sister had said happens to her when she sings. "I hope they'll appreciate it." Her words were loaded with something that the others in the room didn't quite understand.

"They will." Yang promised, and there was a look on her face that resembled Winter so much that Weiss had to do a double take. "What?" She asked when she noticed the look on Weiss' face.

"Oh... it was just--" She hesitated, thinking better of it. "It's nothing." She rubbed at her jaw, "You just looked familiar, for a second."

"Um... okay." Yang said. "Like, _ good _ familiar, or...?"

"Terribly familiar." Weiss deadpanned. "Horrifically similar."

"_Boo_!" Yang protested, turning to her girlfriend. "_Blake_ tell Weiss she's being no fun." 

"Weiss, Yang wants me to tell you that you're being no fun." The other woman said seriously. "But I totally think you're being fun right now so do whatever you want."

Weiss surprised them all by releasing a loud laugh. It was an accident, truth be told, that she started to laugh so hard; she chalked up to being exhausted and vulnerable, her inhibitions lowered just enough to lose her seriousness for a couple of seconds. It was like all movement in the room stopped, everything centering on the sound of Weiss' happiness, her giggles cementing everyone in their seats-- the gravitational pull around them changed, causing them to orbit Weiss. It took a couple of seconds for her to calm down, and when she did, she couldn't help but notice her old teammates staring at her.

"What?" She asked, smile freezing in place, a tad self-conscious.

"It's nothing." Ruby said. "It's just that..." She looked hesitant, a rosy blush on her cheeks. "That's the first time we've heard you laugh like that in years."

* * *

Ren and Nora's wedding was in the spring, which meant that a long fall and winter were spent planning for the event. Weiss, unlike the previous two weddings she had sung at, felt wholly and entirely prepared for her time on stage. Ren was a kind man, Nora an amazing woman, and they were very in love. They way their eyes lingered on each other, the way their eyes had _always_ lingered on each other, was overflowing with devotion and reverence. She wondered if that was how she used to look at Ruby, but quickly discarded the thought. Much like Sun and Neptune, Ren and Nora felt no need to direct her in a specific direction for her performance; a choice that had Weiss very confused. 

With Sun and Neptune, it was because they trusted that Weiss would choose the best song and were both lax when it came to planning (though Sun was prone to anxiety and Neptune often paced restlessly when something seemed to be delayed); the only thing they asked for was that it was upbeat. But with Ren and Nora, Weiss had thought that they might have a good idea on what they wanted their joining (in paper only, they were husband and wife in all the ways it mattered before they decided to officially go through with it.)

So she was at a loss, she hadn't talked to Ren and Nora much in the years after she separated. Sure, she ran into team JNPR on occasion (Pyrrha liked to keep in touch, calling to check on her every couple of months) but the only time she'd ever actually talked to them face to face was on the rare instances that Jaune managed to choose one of the requests of help that had come from her company before Sun or Coco could. 

"Can you at least give me what you might want in a song?" She pleaded. "Like an emotion or theme or literally _ anything_?"

"Sorry, Weiss." Nora shrugged. "I don't enjoy music as much as Ren does, and he thinks that anything you sing will be perfect." She grinned then, broad and uneven. "Though, if you want a tiny hint--" She winked, "--just watch."

Weiss followed her reluctantly, crossing her arms and leaning in the doorway of JNPR's shared home. They had been talking outside, sitting in the small vegetable garden that Pyrrha and Jaune had dutifully created in their spare time. Ren and Nora were moving out soon, Weiss knew, and found herself wondering how their teammates would take it.

"Ren!" Nora shouted, leaping over the living room couch and falling into his lap, giggling. She wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing up against his neck and jumping up and down. "Weiss is being boring, entertain me!"

"_Nora_." He grumbled a little, though the expression on his face hardly looked of a protester. Ren's lips twitched upward, pink eyes sparking as he set down the book he had been reading. "You can hardly ask _ Weiss _ to be fun."

Weiss scoffed, hiding her small smile. Though the scene in front of her was certainly... _ wholesome _ enough, she still couldn't quite see where Nora was going with this. 

"Pfft... well you aren't exactly wrong." Nora said with a grin, popping him on the nose with her finger. "Boop." 

Then Weiss knew exactly what she'd have to do.

She really had to give Nora some credit, she really knows how to get a person working. (And judging by the self satisfied smirk on her face Nora knew it too.)

"I have to go." She says from the doorway, and says goodbye to all of team JNPR before calling her sister. She had a favor to ask.

In retrospect, calling Winter and asking her to contact Flynt Coal and Neon Katt through the Atlas military channels might have been a bit of an overkill. Flynt was less than impressed, though Neon was happy to see her again; they were friends (sort of.) They caught up a little, Weiss asking Neon how she liked Mantle now that everything was a little better, questioning both of them on ways that she might improve the conditions around them. Eventually, she asked if they'd be willing to help her with a song for Ren and Nora's wedding.

Flynt was surprisingly eager. 

Combined with Neon's upbeat ideas, Flynt's enthusiastic attitude, and Weiss' determination not to fail her friends, they managed to come with something that fit Ren and Nora perfectly. 

"Thank you." She said to them both, voice sincere. 

"Don't worry about it, Ice Queen." Neon grinned. "This was fun, besides it's nice to learn that _you_ can have fun _without_ paperwork being involved." 

"Oh, honestly." Weiss rolled her eyes, pausing and shooting her a sly smile, "I'm not my _ sister_."

Flynt snorted, eyes widening in laughter and surprise. "_Whoa _ there, Schnee; you'll pull a muscle, smiling like that."

"General Winter is gonna be so pissed when I tell her what you just said!" Neon cheered. "She'll get that constipated look on her face, and then her eyebrows will do the scrunch thing-! Yeah, exactly like that, Weiss." 

"So funny." Weiss rolled her eyes, self-consciously rubbing at her brow. "Seriously, though... how can I repay you?"

"Like, _ chill_, Ice Queen." Neon laughed patting her excitedly on the shoulder. "We get to head to this totally bangin' party-- I heard weddings are usually like, super duper swanky." She turned to Flynt, jumping up and down while tugging at his sleeve. "C'mon, best friend, tell the Ice Queen she's being totally presumptuous with this--"

"Yeah I'd like a guaranteed spot on some of the top Atlas missions." Flynt said, totally ignoring her. "I need a bit of a peace of mind, been working on a new project and don't really have the time to camp out near the registry." 

"Done." Weiss said, "Though you know I can just pay you, if that would be easier."

He blinked, like he hadn't thought of that and he was kind of offended that she would offer. "No thanks, Schnee. We're barely helping you with this as it is, you would have probably figured all this out without us, eventually." He reluctantly admitted. "So I just want a tiny favor, not a giant check."

"Okay." She said smiling. "Ready for a party?"

"Born ready, babe." Neon grinned, wrapping an arm around Flynt's shoulders.

* * *

The room is a swirl of something warm. Long and high-ceiling, a pavilion with tall decorated green and pink flowers. It was an open occasion, filled with hot winds and a bright sky; the area seemed to reflect the two people that were becoming intertwined in each other's existence. Weiss thought that the area around her was beautiful, filled to the brim with the soothing smell of cherry blossoms and the invigorating sight of happiness. She was in a whirl of different emotions, different feelings; somehow sure and unsure all at once. It was a staggering experience, wrapping her in a blanket of panic and smothering the breath from her lungs.

Why was this wedding so different? Why did this song accompany the distinct (yet different) feeling of dread?

(Perhaps it was because in the past, she was close to the people who were marrying each other, close enough to do them this favor, close enough to enjoy it. This feeling is not that, but a deep sense of misguided loyalty, lacking and dull; it's there, and it is persistent in her heart enough for her to act upon it, but it is pallid in the face of Sun and Neptune, in the warmth of Coco and Velvet.)

She loved Ren and Nora, truly she did. But that feeling had long since faded into a great _ like_\-- not an emotion as scorching as it was before, but warm nonetheless.

It was for that reason, and that reason only, that she sang for them.

The sound echoed throughout the area, not reverberating like the times before, but extending out-- carried by the wind and warmth, wrapping itself around everyone around her. Behind Weiss, Flynt and Neon played dutifully, upbeat and loud; impossible to miss and with quick happy beats, sounds spewing out only a tad faster than her own words. Ren had said that he believed anything she would have sang would be perfect for this occasion, and he was right. 

There was something about this song that made Weiss excited, that made no sadness linger in her eyes, that made it so no melancholy blood rushed to her cheeks. What was it? She asked, losing herself in the sound of her voice. What was it, what was it? _ Sing and dance, sing and dance. _ What was it that was so different? There was still sadness, still the aching feeling of her bones saddled down by the weight of the sky; slippery and cold. But there was light now, in that sky, it wasn't just a mass of dark clouds, no longer raining or thundering. It was bright, warm-- heavy, but... easier, somehow.

Was she truly Atlas? Was she Atlas the man, trapped beneath an endless amount of burden and responsibility, of punishment? Or was she Atlas, the city, desperately reaching up and up and up-- hopelessly begging for reprieve and happiness, holding tightly to the small amount of wonderful things she already had? Was she both...? Could she be both? Pressed down mercilessly to the ground, crushed under the weight of the world around her, but reaching up and up and up anyway? _ Yes_. She decided. _ I am more than the martyr that holds up the sky, more than the woman who wants happiness for those around her; who wants joy for those that deserve it. I am more. I am more. I am more. _

And standing there, singing so loudly that it was impossible they would not know that she wished them endless delight in each other, Weiss Schnee truly was.

"You _ bitch_!" Nora whispered fiercely, choking on her broad smile and thick tears. Weiss had just left the stage, taking a brief moment of rest with Flynt and Neon, who had been happily congratulating each other. "You said you didn't know what to sing!" Her hair was down, swept and curled with a small braid reaching to her collarbones. She wore a crown made of silver, decorated with pink and blue crystals, silk cords intertwining with her hair, and an elaborate pattern of leaves ingrained in the head piece. A warrior queen, Weiss thought distantly as Nora pulled her into a fierce hug, dressed in a long pale blue and white dress with flowing arms. Strong and happy, she thought with a smile. Wonder and excitement personified.

"I'm..." Ren looked at her, and there was emotion painted on his face, plain as day. "It was a really good choice, Weiss." 

She shrugged, smirking a little. "I know."

Nora let go of her then, gripping her shoulders as she grinned wide as rivers flowed down her cheeks. "I'm going to go hug your friends now." 

Weiss barely had a moment to breathe before Nora was hugging her again, whispering, "Thank you--" Then releasing her, surging forward to greet Flynt and Neon. 

"Weiss." Ren grinned, uncharacteristically emotional (and by that she simply meant he showed his emotion to no one else but Nora.) "You did really well."

Her chest clenched, throat closing. "I just wanted for you two to have a good wedding." She said, and meant it. 

"How kind of you." Ren said, a small smile on his pale lips. He pulled her into a gentle one-armed hug. "Enjoy yourself a little more, Weiss." Then he was gone, attempting to save Flynt from Nora and Neon's combined excitement. 

She stared, breath escaping her. Weiss felt dreadfully cold, in that moment. What had taken hold of her? What could she be--

"Weiss?"

She turned, eyes widening.

Ruby.

"Are you crying?"

Her gloved hands went to her eyes immediately, was she really-? And there it was, wetness soaking into silk clad fingertips. They froze upon her cheeks, streaks of frost upon the softness of her skin, the curve of her face. 

"Give me a moment." She mumbled hastily, scrubbing at the tears and turning away so that Ruby could not see anymore. "J-just one." An accent bled into her words, Weiss too surprised to consciously suppress it. She covered her mouth with her palm closing her eyes and taking a moment to collect herself. What was this? She was happy just a moment ago, proud of the look on Ren and Nora's faces. So why was this happening to her? Why was the frost consuming her once more?

A horrible thought struck her then, a terrible awful idea. 

_ What if it's triggered not only by strong negative emotions, but positive ones as well? _

"Weiss." Ruby's voice was more closer than before, but Weiss could not find it in herself to face her. "Hey, c'mon." 

"A minute." She whispered, "Give me a minute, Ruby."

The other woman fell silent. "You said my name."

Confusion overpowered the sorrow that had caused the warmth in the air to disappear. She turned, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"It's been a while." Ruby said, a slightly bitter smile on her lips. She looked beautiful, but Weiss could look nowhere else but her eyes. "Since you've said my name directly to me, I mean." A bit of redness in her cheeks, but her silver eyes remained steady. "Though I guess you could count the hunting trip..." She trailed off, tilting her head. "I don't think that counts though." A wry smile, "You know? Considering the context of the situation."

"You..." Weiss didn't know what to think. "You wanted me to say your name?"

"Ah." Ruby blushed a little harder. "It sounds kind of stupid, when you put it like that."

The frost on her face was dissipating, little by little. (But that did not stop the tears.) "No." She whispered. "I don't think it's stupid at all." 

"You're still crying." Ruby said, and her hands twitched for a moment-- like she had to physically stop herself from wiping away the wetness on Weiss' face. 

"I am." Weiss laughed a little, rubbing at her eyes. "I guess... I was just overwhelmed." She admitted, sniffling. "Don't worry about it." 

"What?" Ruby smiled, a tiny laugh escaping her mouth, "C'mon Weiss, don't be silly." 

"_Silly_?" She mumbled, looking up into silver eyes. Was she always this tall? Weiss asked herself distantly. Wait, when did she get this close?

"Yeah." Ruby nodded, hair falling into her face. "How can I not worry?" There's a pinched up pout on her face, nose scrunched and brows furrowed. It shoots a wave of nostalgia down her throat, and she nearly chokes on it. "You... you're a friend to me." She murmurs, "If you want to be, that is." She shifted, flustered. "Do... do you want to be my friend?"

_ No. No. No. _

Weiss doesn't want anything from her, doesn't want to hear the sweetness of her words, the smoothness of her voice. 

_ No. No. No. _

She doesn't want the complication that comes with smiling at Ruby and saying yes, so instead she says, "I don't know how to do that anymore."

Something flashes in her eyes and Ruby opens her mouth to respond, but the sound of loud laughter makes her jump away. Her recoil does not sting as much as Weiss thought it would, though that may be because she is dazed and confused, not in the right mindset for anything to bother her too sharply. She thinks it would be kind of clever to compare those around her as dull swords, they don't cut in the heat of battle, but later right as you begin to rest-- everything aches like a bruise that covers her entire body. 

"Hey-o!" Yang greets, Blake (who has a thoughtful frown on her face) trailing behind. "That was _ some _ song, Ice Queen." She grins, teeth flashing. Though the gesture is supposed to be comforting, an expression of joy, Weiss is only reminded of the sharp fangs of a dragon.

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" Her voice comes out airy, tired. "It was hard to write... Neon helped a lot with the lyrics though, and Flynt blew his trumpet in her face whenever she wrote something off topic." She isn't smiling, not really, but there is a certain dusting of fondness in her expression; the type that comes with new friends made. She rubs at her cheeks, patting the skin there to wake herself up. There was a wetness on them that didn’t smell of tears.

She wondered when the ice had melted.

"Still." Blake smiled, small and open. "It looked like you enjoyed yourself."

"Did it?" Weiss asked, looking at her-- some clarity returning to her vision and voice. She grinned, the tiniest bit slanted and unrestrained. "I did have a tad bit of... fun, I suppose." 

"Neon sure did." Yang snorted, pouting a little. "Why'd you have to go and sing a song with _ her_." It appeared that she was still the tiniest bit sore about the Vytal Festival. Her lower lip wobbled. "I woulda sung with you if you'd have asked, Ice Queen."

"Yang can't sing." Ruby pointed out.

"It wouldn't have been a very good song then." Blake said at the same time.

Weiss raised a brow. "Sorry, Xiao Long. It appears as though I was correct in choosing Neon for this occasion." 

Yang wolf whistled. "You're talking more snooty than usual, Weiss. Something you want to tell us?" She wiggled blonde eyebrows, shooting her a devious grin.

"Not really." Weiss retorted. "Anyhow, I need to go talk to--"

"Neon?" Blake asked.

"Yes." She blinked, tilting her head a little bit. "How did you know?" She'd needed to thank her, Weiss had already talked to Flynt (sort of) and expressing gratitude to the other woman seemed like the right step to take.

"Call it an educated guess." Blake responded calmly. "You two seem to get along well."

Weiss smiled a little. "Yes. We have a bit in common, surprisingly enough. We're both from Atlas, and we both have a penchant for annoying my sister--" Her smile turned into a grin. "--Winter loathes her, truly. Flynt can never get Neon to behave when she's in the room."

"Flynt?" Yang questioned. "That's the trumpet guy you shoved into the fire in the Vytal Festival, right?"

She nodded. "We've... become civil with one another." Flynt was still wary of her, of her name, her money, her goals-- and it wasn't as though she could blame him. It had been a big step in the right direction when she asked him to help compose the song. She didn't think they'd ever be as close as him and Neon or her and Sun, but the groundwork for a casual friendship had just been laid, and she'd be a fool not to invest in it. 

"I remember them." Ruby said, "They were called team FNKI." She snickered. "You couldn't believe they were from Atlas at first."

Weiss shrugged, "General Ironwood didn't seem like the type of man who'd allow so much color in his academy." She'd only known him then because her father had, and that was enough to paint a picture of him at the time, no matter how wrong it had turned out to be. "Of course, I was a little biased in my opinion of him, and therefore Flynt and Neon." She was happy that she was wrong at first, if only because the two partners had helped her with Ren and Nora's wedding.

Blake hummed, her eyes shrewd. "_Right_."

Weiss shot her a bewildered glance. "Is there something you--"

"Actually, yes." Blake cut her off, hastily moving forward and gripping her hand, "There is something I wanted to talk to you about." She tugged Weiss off, waving goodbye to Yang and Ruby. "Be back in a minute!"

"Okay..." Yang said, drawing out the word. "C'mon Rubles, let's go get some chocolate cake." She wrapped an arm around her younger sister, dragging her off. 

Ruby was still looking at Weiss, their eyes snapping to each other as they were drawn in different directions. They looked away at the same time.

"Blake, slow _down_\--" She started, digging her heels into the ground. "What's the matter with you?"

"I overheard a little bit of your conversation with Ruby." Blake whispered once she was sure no one was around. "I wanted to... check on you."

Something cold thudded in her chest. "Were you eavesdropping?" Weiss hissed. "Blake?"

"Not on purpose!" She protested seriously. "Yang and I had been looking for Ruby, and she wanted to ask if you had seen her." Her ears twitched a little. "I made a bad joke I knew that would make her laugh--" (there was a dreamy look on Blake's face when she talked about Yang that made Weiss roll her eyes) "--so that you two would know we were coming." 

She frowned. "Why would you need to do that?" The conversation was a little personal sure, but it wasn't like they had been doing anything that Weiss wouldn't want Blake and Yang to know about.

"The two of you were whispering." She said like it explained everything. 

Weiss shot her a confused look.

Blake rolled her eyes in exasperation. "It sounded like you were standing a little... close to each other." When Weiss opened her mouth to protest, Blake continued. "And Ruby had been in the process of moving away from you when I walked in, not to mention the look in your eyes when you were talking to us." She shivered, ears flattening against her skull. "Like you didn't quite know what you were saying." Weiss frowned. "Like you were _ embarrassed_." Blake added.

"I was--" She cut herself off when she noticed Blake shiver again. "Am I doing that?" Weiss grit her teeth, looking down at her hands and feet for signs of frost. 

"Maybe a little bit." Blake admitted, relaxing. "But it went away as soon as you realized it."

"That doesn't make me feel not guilty." She retorted, though her thoughts remained on Ruby, troubling Weiss further. _ Had _ she been embarrassed? She didn't know the answer for sure, a realization that concerned her further. "What exactly did you hear, Blake?"

"Just that she was worried about you-- that she wanted to be friends." She crossed her arms, slouching a little. "And your response to that."

"I didn't know what to tell her." Weiss admitted after a beat passed. "I didn't know what to say."

"So next time say nothing!" Blake hissed. "You can't know what you sounded like, you aren't emotionally aware enough for you to realize it, but please for the love of all Remnant _ think _ before you say something like that."

Weiss glared. "What was so bad about it? I don't understand--" She felt frustrated and angry, confusion ripped at every inch of her, stopping her from controlling the thoughts that flew from her mouth. "I don't get it, okay? I can't comprehend the thought of being friends with her because I've _ forgotten _ how to; I've forgotten how to be _ anything _ to her-- anything good, at least." Her chest heaved, and she forced herself to take a deep breath, pushing down on her heart with a gloved hand. "I didn't want to _ hurt _ her!" She found herself yelling. "I didn't want anything _ from _ her, to do anything--" Blood rose to her cheeks, and she had to force down the sobs that threatened to attack her body. "I wasn't just going to tell her _ no_\--"

"Weiss." Blake whispered. "Keep your voice down." Her tone was soothing, worried; and it only served to frustrate her more. "Someone might hear you, someone you don't want to."

"Shut up!" Weiss retorted immediately. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" She wiped at her eyes, leaning on a wall. Blake had lead her outside, they were standing a good distance away from the wedding, near the gardens of the amphitheater that Weiss had performed in. "_Don't_ tell me what to do." 

"I'm not--" Blake cut herself off, eyes widening. "Someone's coming." She turned to look Weiss in the eye, then. "I know that you have regrets, that you don't want to hurt anyone, how you don't want to hurt _ her_\-- but just because it's you want _not_ to cause pain, doesn't mean you always succeed." She rubbed at her cheeks, wiping away runaway tears. "I know that better than anyone else, trust me, I do." Blake sniffled. "Trust that I am sorry, trust that I know what it feels like, trust that you don't know everything about yourself, trust that you can learn enough to function." She smiled. "And most of all, trust in yourself."

"_Blake_?" She heard Ruby call.

"_Weiss_?" Yang's voice reached them, a bit whiny. "C'mon, are you guys done talking yet? They've started opening up wedding gifts, and I wanna see how everyone reacts to what I got them." 

"Over here!" Blake yelled back, she turned to Weiss. "If you want, you can cry; they'd help comfort you, don't you know? And so would I." 

"What if I don't?" She asked, tears still streaming down her face. "Want to cry in front of you all, I mean."

"You could hide behind those rose bushes." Blake pointed out behind her, "Or run away real quick, I'd cover for you."

"No." Weiss shook her head. "I guess I'll just have to take my chances and--"

"Oh, there you guys are." Yang said, voice gentle. She'd managed to find them through the small maze of flowers and plants, a content smile on her face. "What were you guys..." She noticed the redness in Blake's eyes, the tears still streaming down Weiss' cheeks. "...talking about?" She frowned, worry leaking into her expression. "Hey, what's the matter?" She moved forward, wrapping the two of them into a warm hug. Blake leaned into the heat naturally, but Weiss stiffened, still unused to Yang's easy affection.

"A small complication." Blake sniffled, voice muffled by the fabric of Yang's suit jacket. "We'll be okay after a minute." She reached down, gripping Weiss' hand. 

Weiss remained stone still, eyes wide and shoulders stiff. What was she supposed to do?

"Oh, are we doing a group hug?" Ruby walked into view. "I like group hugs."

_ No. No. No. _

"Not really." Blake said, pulling away from Yang, still gripping Weiss' hand and taking her with her. "I just needed a bit of comfort." She looked at her, "I don't know what Weiss needs though."

"A puppy." She responds distantly, not bothering to wipe away her tears. "Or five."

"Ooh." Yang cheered, moving back and grabbing Ruby and Blake by the shoulders, pushing them so they faced Weiss. "I've got two of the next best things."

"Was that a cat joke?" Blake frowned. "You're going to make me cry again if it was a cat joke."

"I don't know why I was included." Ruby said with a curious look on her face. "I'm not a puppy." 

"Are you sure about that?" Yang mused, glancing down at her sister. "Everything about you as a person says differently."

"She isn't wrong." Weiss added through her sniffles. "I think I'm going to go now." She tried to wipe her tears away, but nearly swore when she noticed the state of her gloves. Soaked, because of the rivers of water streaming down her cheeks or melted ice Weiss couldn't know. She sighed, pulling them off of her hands. "I need to go say goodbye to Ren and Nora." She used the pads of her fingers to wipe away the moisture. "Then I can go home." Weiss said that last part to herself, but was warmed when Yang started to nod.

"Need a hand?" She wiggled her eyebrows, flexing her robotic arm.

"You're so funny." Weiss deadpanned, though she looked kind of weird like that, shooting her that kind of look while still crying. "What would I be without your wit and charm, I wonder?"

"Better." Blake added silently.

Yang shot her an affronted look. "_Betrayal_." She looked at her sister. "Ruby I've been betrayed."

"That's cool, sis." Was her response. Ruby turned to look at Weiss. "Do you want any help?"

"I--" _No_. No she didn't... did she? Blake had told her to trust in herself, but she didn't even know who that was, really. "I think I'd appreciate it." She mumbled, rubbing at her eyes and undoing her ponytail. It was too bad about her hair, she thought, she hardly ever got to wear it like that anymore. 

It gets real quiet for a moment.

"You look pretty with your hair down." Yang says after a beat too long. "Kinda like a princess."

"I've certainly got the tower for it." Weiss rolled her eyes, moving forward. She looked back when she realized Ruby wasn't following her. "Did you still want to come with me?"

"Yeah." Ruby agreed softly after a moment, and it feels like she's agreed to much more than helping her get home. "Yeah I do."

Weiss didn't know whether or not that was a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are starting to happen!!!!!!! important things (like Weiss and her messy repressed emotions finally getting to make an appearance in her life) anyway, how did you like renora? i liked it a whole lot, though i might be a bit biased. this chapter was kind of an emotional thing for me to write... it feels rich with a different type of feeling then the others, maybe because Weiss is starting to slowly understand herself and the things around her... ;)


	6. heavenly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the thing, Blake loves Yang, she adores her more with every breath she takes, with every decision she makes—Blake loves her. Sometimes the emotion is so vast and overwhelming that it cascades around her ears in waterfalls, blood rushing into her ears and swirling into her too sharp cheeks. Sometimes it grips her by her ligaments, by her soul and body and mind, and shakes her so rapidly she’s left with a headrush and a feeling that could only mean—I want this, I want this, I want this—she’s left with the unending desire to be near her, to hold her, to smile at her, to hear her laugh—because Blake loves Yang. It was just one of those things that would always be, like how Weiss would always be self sacrificing, and Ruby would always let her hope shine a light for others. 
> 
> or
> 
> Ruby and Weiss have a much needed argument (and like all their other arguments, it doesn't last long.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's an asshole in this chapter that makes some... remarks about Weiss (warning for verbal assault I guess)

In retrospect, maybe cornering Weiss Schnee and talking to her about a potentially (read: definitely) emotional topic was not the smartest move Blake Belladonna had ever made. Not only would that be... uncomfortable in a way that made her cringe because she was almost absolutely causing her friend to panic, but she had also learned some months ago that Weiss had been the victim of an odd experiment that made her freeze anything when she felt too strongly about something. Still, Blake had to check on her, had to make sure if she had known what she was doing when she's said— 

_ "I don't know how to do that anymore." _

Blake could practically hear Ruby's heart rip in half. She knew that Weiss hadn't meant to, hadn't understood why saying something like that to Ruby (Ruby who had asked her so vulnerably, so desperately if they could be friends) would cause pain, cause immeasurable hurt. But she had to make sure, so she grabbed Weiss by her silken gloves and dragged her into a rose garden. What was meant to be the calm and collected questioning of a careful friend, turned into the kind of lecture that Yang would probably give someone... Not that she regretted that she sounded like the other woman, as a matter of fact, Blake adored the hope and strength Yang had seemed to personify. But Weiss didn't need strength and hope in that moment, she needed understanding and tranquility; she needed someone who could explain everything slowly, to make it so that Weiss could actually comprehend what she may have sounded like.

But Blake... well Blake didn't think she was that person. 

It wasn't like she couldn't explain it to Weiss, or that she couldn't make her take a moment to collect herself—but more like she wasn't sure if it was her place. What would Sun or Neptune had done? She asked herself. They knew more than she did about Weiss, a fact that made the slightest bit of hurt bloom in her chest, they might have known what to say. But what if they wouldn't know either? She thought back to the three questions they had been allowed to ask, thinking of the couple's confusion and their acceptance of the fact that they couldn't always understand themselves or others. She knew of course that their thought process was common, the fundamental confusion about oneself and the strange emotions of the other's around them. It was what made them a person, what made them good and bad and everything above, bellow, and in between. 

“What’s the matter?” Yang asked her softly, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her forehead. “You’ve got that little crinkle in your forehead, the one that only shows up when your stressed or turned on—” 

“Shush, Yang.” Blake chastised, though couldn’t quite keep the laughter out of her voice. How had she gotten so lucky? She wondered, only for her girlfriend to make another kind of stupid comment. Scratch that, she rolled her eyes, how had she been so unfortunate?

“Oh no.” Yang started, wrapping her arms around Blake’s waist and drawing her close. “You’ve got that look on your face when you think I’ve said something charming.”

“_Stupid_.” Blake corrected. “I think you meant stupid.”

Yang pretended to think about it, placing her chin on one of Blake’s shoulders and humming near her ears. “Hmm… Nah.” She leaned back, grinning broadly. “I’m pretty sure I meant charming.”

They had been in their shared room, and Blake had long since set her book down and taken the time that Yang got ready for bed to just _ think _ . It was hard, she knew, being in Weiss’ place—lacking the understanding needed to safely travel the ocean that was another person’s—no _ Ruby’s _ heart and mind. It was unsafe to delude herself into thinking that the business woman couldn’t handle herself in the space of someone else, Sun and Neptune were excellent examples of that. That’s what made Weiss so different from her, Blake realized—leaning into Yang’s warmth. She didn’t understand anybody (including herself), after… after the White Fang, things that she thought she knew about people seemed to seep from her mind like the sand of a cracked hourglass. (They were similar in a sense they had no idea what was going on with themselves, but that was common knowledge at this point.) But Weiss was unalike her in the classification of others, she understood in some way what people wanted, what they were driven by—but Weiss was blinded by the possibility for negative desires. 

That’s why she and Ruby had worked so well together. Weiss was good at seeing the worst in people—checking and rechecking any possible motives they might have to interact with her, while Ruby was good at seeing the best in people—knowing somehow when someone was telling the truth or when they had a good reason for doing something. They kept each other in balance, if Weiss saw bad in someone, Ruby could see the good. Together they’d compare what they had noticed, what stuck out to them, and decide whether or not moving forward was a good idea. They weren’t perfect though, sometimes Yang would spot something neither of them had even seen—something that Blake always realized in tandem. All of them had always been on the same wavelength, but the bond between partners made it so sometimes it seemed they shared the same _ thoughts_.

Yang sighed softly, bringing Blake’s back closer to her front, her movements were gentle and loving. Warmth threatened to burst from her chest, and she felt blood begin to rush into the skin of her cheeks. “What’s the matter, Belladonna?” A warm metal fingers idly rubbed soothing circles into her side. “You’ve been on edge since the wedding.” 

“I know.” Blake mumbled, leaning back into Yang as much as she could. She shut her eyes tight, fighting the urge to cry. “I’m just… so _ worried_.” The emotion grounded her, sometimes, made her more cautious and observant—but most of the time it was simply exhausting. It filled her, dragging her bones and muscle to the floor, bringing her to her knees as it pierced her body over and over again in thoughts of _ what if_. “Weiss is _ different_, now.” She mumbled, “And she isn’t okay… it’s beginning to stress on the minds of all of us, I think.” 

A small huff of breath left Yang’s lips. _ She must know_, Blake thought, _ she must know what Ruby and I are feeling—that something had gone wrong in conversations she’d interrupted. _What would she do, she wondered? What would Yang do in the face of Weiss Schnee and her endless mountain tops of ice? Even now, after all this time, Blake wasn’t entirely certain on the things that her girlfriend would attempt to do. She knew that Yang would try to fix things, or at least make things better, but for the life of her Blake could not understand how. 

“What happened to her?” Yang mumbled after a beat of silence. “Who could have done—” (A flash of white hair, ice dripping with blood, ragged panting, and… blue eyes, filled with tears) “_ —that_.” A living thing, filled with dust? Creation by means of emotional torture? It was unfathomable, unthinkable—and yet, there it stood, prim and proper—singing and wearing the face of one of their oldest friends. 

“It had to do with her father.” Blake said, voice quiet. “She gets a certain look on her face when she thinks about him.” She squashed down the disgust. “It’s… similar.”

“Ah.” Yang held her just a little tighter. “I saw that she looked less than okay talking about it, but I had assumed that it was because she’d gone through something traumatic… Though I guess if it has something to do with her dad it probably had to be a little bit more than that.” 

“We should pay a visit to her next week.” Blake says absentmindedly, allowing herself a moment to carefully run her fingers through Yang’s blonde hair, “We’ll make it a surprise, have a small get together… maybe bring a pie. But we’ll tell Winter before we get there, to make sure the time we go isn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

“Whatever you say.” She agrees. “Let’s hope she doesn’t get too pissed at all of us.” _All _of us? She must intend to involve Ruby, a move Blake hadn’t expected, but probably should have.

Still, she can’t quite keep herself from humming in agreement. “I’m worried.” She said again, as if repeating it would reprieve her of the anxiety rooted deep inside of her. 

“So am I.” Yang whispered into her hair. Even though she couldn’t see her face, she could feel the other women begin to smile sadly. “Let’s be worried together?” Her mouth trailed down, placing a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck.

“Worried together.” Blake agreed with a soft sigh, curling into Yang and doing her best to lose herself in the softness of the moment. 

Here’s the thing, Blake loves Yang, she adores her more with every breath she takes, with every decision she makes—Blake loves her. Sometimes the emotion is so vast and overwhelming that it cascades around her ears in waterfalls, blood rushing into her ears and swirling into her too sharp cheeks. Sometimes it grips her by her ligaments, by her soul and body and mind, and shakes her so rapidly she’s left with a headrush and a feeling that could only mean—_I want this, I want this, I want this—_she’s left with the unending desire to be near her, to hold her, to smile at her, to hear her laugh—because Blake loves Yang. It was just one of those things that would always be, like how Weiss would always be self sacrificing, and Ruby would always let her hope shine a light for others. 

Here’s the other thing, she doesn’t like keeping things from Yang. So she tells her exactly what she overheard, exactly what Weiss had told her, exactly what Ruby had looked and sounded like. Yang—she doesn’t know how in remnant _ how—_understands. She presses her hands to Blake's cheeks, wipes the moisture that burned under her eyes, kissing any tears away that she can’t reach, and whispers. _ We’re going to make this better, we’re going to make this better—_she presses her lips to hers—_we’re going to make this better, we’re going to make this better. _

They hold each other, and the words reverberate in Blake’s skull as she allows herself to drift off and fall asleep.

_ Somehow. Someway, we will make this better. _

* * *

Weiss wakes to the sound of screaming, and the first thing that goes through her mind is, _ what is bothering Whitley this time? _ Only it takes another moment for her to realize that her brother isn’t there, that he now practically spends all his time on the New Pine Ranch (Oscar’s aunt had named it) and hasn’t been in the Schnee manor unless he absolutely had no other choice. It’s then she notices the smell, something is burning. She’s out of her bed in a second, gripping the small obsidian dagger from her night stand and launching herself out the door without a second's hesitation. 

It is extremely fortunate for her that Klein had insisted she sleeps with the dagger in her room. 

A man is on her in an instant, brandishing a too large club and a complex looking rifle, he swings—and she dodges, rolling out of the way and behind him just in time to strike the skin behind his knee. He trips forward, and it is the only opening she needs. She moves fluidly, bringing her dagger down lightly where his neck meets his shoulders, dragging it down _down_ _down_ to the point if not for his aura he’d surely be bleeding out. 

It would be what he deserved, attacking her like this—she’s hardly decent, in her nightgown and slippers, so she’d enjoy giving him a little lesson. But that would be tedious and cruel, and Weiss was only alright with being one of those things. (She could be more than a little impatient.) 

She pressed her weapon to the base of his throat, gripping his dark brown hair and pressing her knee to his back. Weiss adjusts the obsidian dagger, allowing it to nic his neck slightly, testing to see if his aura was depleted enough to combat the sharpness. She grinned, the slightest amount of blood trickled down his tan neck. “Talk.” Her voice is something between a hiss and a snarl, animalistic and ruthless. 

“Whoa there, Ice Queen.” A voice says from behind her, she doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. “That was pretty hot.”

Weiss’ grip doesn’t loosen on the man below her as she adjusts herself to face Yang Xiao Long. “What’s going on?” She asked again, more to her old friend the captive at her mercy.

“I don’t know.” Yang admits, grimacing. “The alarms sounded while we were coming to visit you, Blake and Ruby are taking care of the Grimm, but I noticed some shady people making their way into your manor, and well…” She gestured to the man on the floor, still struggling to get free. “You seem to have it handled.”

“Quite right.” Weiss agreed, focusing her attention back to her other problem. “Want to talk?” When he says nothing, she barely has the energy to be annoyed. “Fine.” She presses the dagger deeper into his neck, drawing more blood and making him look at Yang. “See my friend there?” Yang wiggles her fingers, grinning as her eyes go red and hair begins to blaze. “She’s made of fire, and I of ice, we both don’t have the right kind of temperament for torture, so we’d both probably end up killing you in a painfully horrific way, now—tell me what I want to know before I prove to you I’m not a liar?”

“Paid.” He grunts. “Anonymous, in cash, the guild master didn’t know who it was, or wouldn’t tell us.” 

“Us?” Weiss frowned.

“The rest are kind of knocked out.” Yang doesn’t even look sheepish. “I saw them terrorizing some of your people.” She shrugged. “It was a group of your chefs, I think? One of the women said she’d bake me anything I wanted in thanks, as long as I let her break one of the men’s hands.”

Weiss laughed. “Sounds like Madam Ginger, she’s been here since I was five.” A wistful smile crossed her lips. “You really ought to ask her for her gingerbread cookies, my personal favorite—and she only makes them on Christmas, so you’d be pretty lucky.”

Yang snorted. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The man grunted. “You two are fucking insane.”

“Shut up.” Weiss hissed, kicking him further to the ground and standing, freezing his hands and feet to the marble floor. “Honestly, what kind of assassin are you?”

“One with friends.” She was dodging a swing of a sword before she even finished her sentence. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Schnee.” Distinguishable fox ears sat atop this person’s head, though there face was hidden by a hood and green half mask. “Die quietly, and maybe I won’t make—” 

Weiss stabbed him the same instant Yang punched him in the face. He staggered backward grunting in surprise, he wasn’t bleeding from where she had attacked him, but was sporting a cracked mask and busted lip from Yang’s jab to the head. 

He didn’t know how to control his aura. 

Weiss allowed herself a small smile, and in tandem she and Yang attacked him at the same time, both of them realizing that with each strike all of his defense would go to the one he perceives the most threatening, and be open to the other’s attack. 

When he was down, Weiss made sure to freeze his limbs to the ground too. 

She sighed running a hand through her hair, accidentally getting a bit of blood in the pale strands. Weiss glanced down at her fingers, blinking, she had split knuckles. They were already healing, thanks to her aura, but she knew the reality of the situation. She was getting rusty with her dagger, she’d missed him with the blade and struck her hand against his sword numerous times. Weiss grimaced, hopefully Klein would help her without giving her too much grief for allowing herself to waste away. 

“Whoa.” Someone said. 

Weiss and Yang turned, not bothering to tense up, the voice was easily recognizable. 

“You two really handled them, huh?” Ruby noted, moving to place her scythe back into its resting position. She hummed, walking passed Weiss and squatting down, examining the squirming men on the floor. “Did you guys already ask them what they know?” She craned her neck to make eye-contact with her sister, before allowing her eyes to settle on Weiss.

Her gaze lingered, mouth agape, before she blushed, and looked away swiftly, busying herself by fiddling with her cape.

Weiss blinked, looking down at herself. She was still in her nightgown, only it was ripped, revealing her collarbones and shoulders—the milky skin of the top of her breasts visible. “He ruined my favorite…” She trailed off, glaring angrily down at the man. “You vile, miserable, little _ craven— _” 

“—dunno what that word means.” The man with the fox ears grins lecherously, “But if I’m going to prison it’s nice to know I’ve seen the tits of one of the high class ‘Schnees’.” He rolls his eyes, before narrowing his gaze maliciously. “Think I could collect the whole set? Maybe after I’ve seen sister’s and mother’s come visit me down in my holding cell, I’ll make it worth your—”

Ruby punches him in the face, knocking him out immediately. “Dick.” She grumbled, looking completely unapologetic when his head bounced off of a piece of ice. 

Yang, who looked like she didn’t know how to handle her suddenly very angry sister, turned to Weiss. “You called him a craven?” She’s teasing, she _ knows _ that, but she can’t quite help puffing up her cheeks and crossing her arms. 

“Well.” She sneered down at him. “He is one.”

“What does craven mean?” Ruby asked, her face adjusted so she was looking away from Weiss. Her eyes remained fixated on the unconscious faunus in front of them.

“Coward.” Yang supplies easily, walking over to the next frozen man—who squirmed faster when he noticed her coming closer. 

“Well, isn’t he one?” Ruby mumbled darkly, flicking him in between the eyes. 

Yang slowed her pace, “Say, why don’t you and Ice Queen go get cleaned up? I’ll take care of this.” She turned to face Weiss, shooting her a ‘please help my sister calm down’ look.

Weiss sighed, grumbling. “My room is literally right here.” She grimaced, tugging on the doorknob. “And I’ve accidentally frozen the door over, _ wonderful._” It was hard for her to get cold, but she didn’t want to go walking around the manor in her very _ ripped up _ nightgown.

“Take this.” Ruby was there immediately, wrapping her cloak around Weiss’ shoulders. “It… covers everything.” There was a slight blush to her cheeks, “Sorry, about… all that.”

She sighed, drawing the cloak closer to herself, and tried to ignore the fact that it smelled of a mixture of roses and strawberry shampoo—tried to ignore that it smelled like Ruby. “Don’t worry about it.” Weiss frowned after overcoming her nostalgia. “How did you both even get into the manor?”

“The doors were blasted open.” Yang says, hefting two unconscious men over her shoulders. “I assume it was because of these assholes and their friends.” She sighed. “We were supposed to surprise you, Blake had a whole thing planned out.”

“Did she?” Weiss raised a single pale eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Yang mumbled gruffly, walking past both Ruby and Weiss. “We wanted to see you, since we’re on such good terms now, she even brought a pie.” 

Weiss scoffed and rolled her eyes, though there is the slightest smile brushed upon her lips. “Saps, all of you.”

“Call me a tree.” Yang agreed with a halfhearted shrug.

Ruby managed a small laugh at that.

When Yang was gone, Weiss had almost forgotten that she had left her alone with Ruby. She didn’t know what to say to her, didn’t know how to greet her, or how to even look at her. Instead, she drew the cloak a little bit closer, and said, “You only have to follow me until I find the study, I have an extra set of clothes in there.” She shot a mournful glance at her door, still frozen. “I’d rather go back to sleep, quite frankly.”

“Sleeping in?” Ruby teased, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Weiss decided to play along, not wanting to ask what was wrong. “Only every day that ends in the letter ‘y’.”

“That’s not much at all.” She said sarcastically. “C’mon Weiss, go big or go home.”

She let out a huff of breath, barely fighting the laugh the built up in her chest. “I think I have that quite covered, Ruby.” She murmured softly, looking down at her hands. She hadn’t had the chance to put on gloves while she was hurrying out of her room, and now she had to look not only at the bruises on her knuckles, but the scars that littered the front and back of her palms. Both were evidence that she wasn’t as prepared as she needed to be.

“How’d that happen?” Ruby mumbled, suddenly a little bit closer, tugging at Weiss’ hand to examine it closely. Her face was not far enough from her own. “You don’t usually punch things.”

“I was a tad sloppy.” She admitted begrudgingly, aware that Ruby had pulled them into a stop. “Small blades aren’t exactly my forte.” Weiss gestured to the narrow obsidian dagger in her other hand. 

“Where’s Myrtenaster?” Ruby asked, lowering her hand but not letting go, mindful of her split knuckles. “You’re supposed to have him on you at all times!” Ruby pouted, not exactly chastising her—though there was seriousness in her silver pools that made Weiss start to pout. 

“_She’s _ in the forge.” She shot Ruby an appraising look. “I had been tinkering…” She looked away, embarrassed. Klein had to drag her up to her room the night before, insisting that she needed her beauty sleep, and she didn’t have the sense to ask him to retrieve it because of her exhaustion. “...I was tired.”

Ruby shot her an amused look.

Weiss rolled her eyes, and moved forward, not noticing that Ruby was still holding her hand.

Some time later, when she got off of the call talking to the Atlas council, she her shoulders fall into the back of her father’s old seat. She groaned into the palms of her hands, still ungloved and yet to be healed, and rubbed at the scars near her eyes. This had been the third attack in the last two months, and the assassins coming after her had been much more foolhardy than the last—yet, they still had somehow managed to slip in during the commotion caused by a Grimm attack. It bothered her immensely, and she knew it was only a matter of time before one of her people were killed to make a statement. 

Weiss grabbed the remote to her small music system, allowing the sound to gently floor through the speakers. She let out a small sigh of relief, before rolling her shoulders, and bringing her wrist up to check her watch. 

It had been hours.

She chewed on her lips, unbuttoned the top two buttons of her white dress shirt and shrugging off the blazer she’d worn for the call. Weiss had to look her best for the Atlesian council, even if there still was a bit of blood in her hair and on her face. (Unfortunately, the wet wipes she kept in the office weren’t enough to get rid of the stains, so she’d need an actual shower soon.) Luckily, however, she knew that her news gave her enough leeway to style her hair exactly how she wanted to, asymmetrical ponytail and all.

(She was quite glad to have it up like this, especially considering where she was sitting in. Plopped down in her father’s old chair, inside his old office, where he decreed his dead and vile laws.)

A knock on the door distracted Weiss from her thoughts. “Come in.” She called, flipping some of the hair out of her face as the person walked in.

“Um.” Ruby froze in her tracks, eyes widening in surprise. Her eyes glazed over a little, lips opening and closing.

“What is it?” Weiss asked, she was slumped back enough to be able to position her elbow on the arm of the chair, fist propping up her face. Her shoulders were relaxed and extended, a testament to her exhaustion. She tilted her head, accidentally causing some hair to fall into her eyes. She sighed, flicking it away with the hand not propped on her chair. “Ruby? Did you need something?” She asked when she realized that the other woman was effectively just standing there doing nothing. 

Ruby blinked rapidly, shaking her head a little. “Yes!” Her voice was a tad to shrill, “Um… I just.” She looked down, as if to gather strength. “I wanted to tell you that the ice blocking your room finally melted.” Ruby tilted her head suddenly. “Are you listening to opera?”

“It helps me relax.” Weiss muttered, not adding that the music had been conducted by Piper VonHameln. 

Ruby raised an eyebrow when the song ended and changed to a more popular one by an indie artist. “And this-?”

“Also helps me relax.” Weiss rolled her eyes. “I like music.” When they had been together, she used to choke on the words, on the admittance that she had enjoyed one of the activities deemed appropriate by her father. Now, however, the confession came out silky and smooth, as easy as breathing. She overcame her strange phobia of enjoying music a little before Coco and Velvet’s wedding. Just in time, apparently, because the two had all but pounced on her, with sheet music in had, just after. 

Ruby smiled. “I’m glad.” 

Weiss studied her. Why would that make her glad? Why was her admission enough to make Ruby smile at her like _ that_—uneven and bright, so filled with gentle joy that it made her head spin just by looking at it? It felt like the breath had been stolen from her lungs, her heart ripped from her rib-cage, beating right there out in front of her, just because she’d seen this woman’s lips quirk upwards that way, seen them travel and round her red cheeks, seen them make her silver eyes sparkle with an emotion unfamiliar to her. 

What did Ruby gain from this?

Said woman shifted, blushing a little as she shrunk in on herself, unconsciously trying to make herself smaller. She was nervous, and an urge to move forward and press her hands to Ruby’s shoulder blades and smooth out the tension there filled up Weiss like salt water filled the ocean. She swallowed, neck bobbing, and took a deep breath, averting her gaze from Ruby and doing her best to regulate her breathing. 

“What did-!” Ruby cut herself off immediately, throwing a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from finishing her question. She looked positively mortified, a deep red blush painting her skin. 

“What is it?” Weiss asked, but her voice didn’t sound like her own, the air was loaded with something—an idea or emotion that she was no longer familiar with. “You… you can ask.”

“Does it have to be that question?” Ruby laughed, shifting a little. “What almost came out of my mouth was… well it was kind of a doozy.”

The desire to press and find out what she had wanted to know was overwhelming, but Weiss resisted, nodding her head. “You can ask me anything you want—” She winced. “—whether or not I answer is a different story entirely.”

Ruby laughed. “It always is with you.” She couldn’t tell if the words were bitter or fond. 

Weiss looked away, closing her eyes tightly, before taking a moment to sit up in her chair. “Was… that an insult?” She smiled, though it was hollow and empty.

“I—” Ruby blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean for it to be.” 

“Right.” Weiss sighed, standing and stretching. “If you don’t have anything to talk to me about then I’ll just be on my way—”

“Don’t do that.” Ruby said moving towards her, a fierce look on her face. “Don’t shut me down just because you don’t know how to handle a tense situation.”

Weiss grit her teeth. “You shouldn’t presume to know—”

“And you shouldn’t be satisfied pretending everything is okay.” Ruby interjected. “There’s a lot of things we shouldn’t do, Weiss. That doesn’t stop us from doing them.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, trying to move past her, but Ruby persisted—standing in front of her so she couldn’t leave without running into her. Weiss was trapped.

She wasn’t very good at being trapped.

“Ruby.” She said softly, warning her. “Let me go.” The words, though meant to make it so that Ruby would let her out of the office, sounded much more loaded than intended—as if there was some sort of hidden meaning in the tone of her voice. 

“Not yet.” Was her loaded response. “Not yet.” 

Weiss wrapped her arms around herself and concentrated. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if she lost control here. “Please move.” She whispered softly, gripping herself and closing her eyes tightly, turning her face away and clenching her jaw. “_Please_.”

“I—” Ruby sounded choked up, and Weiss didn’t need to be a genius to know that the other woman must be crying. “I just want to say something… just one thing, and you’ll never have to see me again, I _ promise—_”

“No!” Weiss shouted, “You don’t _ get _ to do that to me, Ruby Rose. Not again.” She opened her mouth to respond, but Weiss continued. “You told me to leave, _ you _ told me that—you can’t expect me to be thrilled that you’re here, that all the complications and emotions I thought were gone _ are still there—_” Her breathing came out in harsh gasps, her tears freezing on her cheeks. “—I _ know _ I did something wrong.” She rasped, “But I could never figure out what…” Was that a lie, Weiss wondered, did she actually know what the problem was and refuse to admit it to herself? Or was she as clueless as she claimed?

She didn’t know.

And she _ hated _ herself for that—hated herself for the emotionally stupidity she’d picked up from the people around her, hated herself for letting her team slip through her fingers, hated herself for isolating her from everyone who would have cared about her_—Weiss Schnee hated herself—_but that was nothing new.

A hand on her shoulder made her recoil, but Ruby persisted, gently bringing her in closer. Before she knew what was happening, she was wrapped in the strong arms of her old partner, warmth and some blazing emotion she couldn’t place seeping in around them. Every place where Ruby touch burned, sending heat from the position of her hands, touching her back and shoulders, straight through the center of her chest—where her heart might be. An inferno, reaching from all the points their bodies touched and settling under her skin. Ruby Rose was hugging her, and Weiss Schnee could actually _ feel _ it. The sensation alone was almost enough to reduce her into shaky sobs, almost enough to make her weep. 

“You froze your feet to the floor.” Ruby mumbles into the shell of her ear, breath shuddering and labored. “And also maybe my hands.” 

Weiss said nothing, staring up at nothing, tears frozen on her cheeks. 

“If you’re not gonna do anything, could you at least return the hug? This was supposed to be for the both of us.” Ruby whined a little, though there was a sound to her voice that said she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. 

“Why did you embrace me?” Weiss murmured softly. 

Ruby made a high-pitched sound in the back of her throat that might have been of embarrassment. “Well… I thought it was a good idea?” She struggles a little, shaking both of their bodies. “But now I’m kind of stuck.”

“Frozen.” Weiss corrected with a judgmental sigh. “You’re frozen.” 

“Okay maybe this wasn’t the smartest decision I could have made—”

“_—maybe _ she says—”

“—but I like to think it had some pretty good results.” Ruby finished.

Weiss couldn’t help but scoff. “Like what?” 

Ruby went silent for a moment. “You aren’t crying anymore.”

Weiss didn’t know how to respond to that appropriately, so she decided to play it off. “A distraction hug? Seriously? How do you even know it worked, I could be crying silently right now.”

“You aren’t that slick.” Ruby murmured, tone teasing.

Weiss huffed, scoffing, the slightest amount of bitterness seeped into her. “You haven’t been around long enough to know that.”

She went silent. For a moment, Weiss feared that she’d let her sharp tongue get the best of her once more, only Ruby began to laugh. “Yeah, well, considering I’ll be around for again for a while that little mistake will be rightfully rectified.” 

“Big words.” Weiss said. “Bigger promises.” 

“You know...” Ruby trailed off, “For all the changes you go through, I think one thing will always be the same.” 

She snorted. “And what’s that?”

“You’ll always be—”

Weiss blinked, sure that she hadn’t heard. “What?”

Ruby pulled back, grunting in effort, when she was far enough to meet her gaze, a brilliant smile was slotted onto her face. 

_ “You’ll always be my partner.” _

* * *

“She actually said that?” Sun asked, eyes widening as he dropped the piece of cake he had been preparing to eat. He and his husband made a point to visit each her in person every month, video calling and texting each other on their scrolls the rest of the time. They all sat in a cafe, coincidentally the one where Weiss had first spoken to Ruby after years on the scroll all that time ago just before Sun and Neptune’s wedding. 

Weiss sighed, setting down her cup of tea and doing her best not to be reduced to the horrid blush that threatened to make its way across her fair cheeks. “Yes.” She grimaced. “She actually said… that I’d, that I’d always be—” She was beginning to become flustered, not a good sign. 

“Her partner.” Neptune finished softly, looking far too enamored by the words Ruby had said. “That’s actually—”

“—really sweet.” Sun finished, a bewildered look on his face. “Huh. Who knew little Rubles had game?” He asked, leaning his face into the palm of his hand.

“Weiss did.” Neptune interjected goodnaturedly. “And maybe Penny Polendina.” 

Sun huffed, crossing his arms and pouting. “Well, _ I _ didn’t know that.” The childish look on her face made Neptune and Weiss laugh, though hers sounded like it was a bit more on the embarrassed side.

“I just—” She sighed. “Why would she say something like that to me?”

“When did this all happen?” Neptune asked. “Give us the context.” 

Reluctantly, Weiss told them all what happened.

“What—Snow Angel that was _ yesterday._” Neptune fell back into his seat, rubbing a hand on his face and through his sea blue hair. “Are they…?”

“Still at the manor?” Weiss mumbled. “Unfortunately.” She looked out the window, propping her chin into her hand and watching the people go by. “I felt bad, they had come such a long way—with a green light from Winter—so I couldn’t just tell them to leave.” 

Sun frowned. “What do they think you’re doing right now?” 

“Er…” She trailed off.

“Weiss.” Neptune chastised. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing I said was a lie.” She started defensively before sheepishly whispering, “...because I didn’t say anything to them.”

It was at this point in time Neptune imploded on himself. He slumped in his chair even further, burying his face in his hands and groaning for a while. She couldn’t help but feel a little bad, she knew that he worried quite a bit for her, and seemed to retain a great deal of second hand embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry too much.” She said softly. “I made sure that Klein knew where I was going, and that in an emergency he could reach me.” 

“Yeah okay.” Sun nodded. “But didn’t you leave them with your _ mother_?”

“A sacrifice I was willing to make to get my head together.” Weiss nodded solemnly, “I am—of course—praying that she doesn’t say or do anything uncouth, but at this point I have found I am willing to risk it… baby pictures and drunken shenanigans be damned.” 

Sun snorted and Neptune groaned louder. 

“Anyway, those men who attacked you.” Sun’s voice grew serious. “Was Winter able to get any information from them?” There was a look to his face, worried and fierce all at the same time, and for a moment she feared what the constant threat on her life was doing to him. 

“They’re apart of one of the more… morally _ ambiguous _ freelancer guilds in Mantle.” She explained, sipping her tea. “Same as the past assassins, anonymous job, half of the money wired into their account before the other half after, ect.” Weiss rolled her eyes a little. “Same as last time, only this attack was used under the cover of Grimm—so our enemies are growing a tad smarter…” She trailed off, idly rubbing a finger on the rim of her tea cup. “I’m planning on having the manor sweeped, I fear that my father may have had them plant something.”

Neptune nodded, looking grave. “From what you told us, it does sound like they may have had the opportunity.” 

Sun looked quite put out at the idea. 

“Anyway,” Weiss said, deciding to change the subject, “What have you two been up to?”

They stayed there for another two hours or so, discussing subjects both pressing and frivolous, and just all together enjoying each other’s company. She’d missed them, missed this—being able to talk and laugh without the fear of stepping on someone’s toes. Sun and Neptune were her friends, she realized, they were _ hers— _ and for the foreseeable future, they wouldn’t be going anywhere else, wouldn’t be leaving her behind. It almost felt too good to be true, as if she was walking blindfolded in a hallway, completely unaware as to the monsters ready to leap out at her. But that didn’t change the fact that they were there for her, _ with _ her—and nothing would change that. 

They accompanied her back to the manor, but refused to go inside. 

“You’ve gotta face them on your own, this time.” Neptune explained. “But if anything goes wrong, you know the hotel we’re staying at.” 

“It’s the only one that allows faunus!” Sun continued cheerfully. “It also puts little mints on your pillow, which I thought was really classy.” 

Neptune smiled at his husband, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, before turning back to Weiss. “Take care, Snow Angel.” He wrapped her in a warm hug, laughing in surprise when Sun joined them, lifting the two up effortlessly and swinging them around. 

“Bye, Empress!” Sun said with a grin, kissing her cheek as he moved to wave goodbye.

Weiss stayed there for a minute after they had gone, staring out at the places they had stood. There was a tightness in her chest, a rough prodding that made it impossible to go inside. After a moment, she took a deep breath, and gathered her courage. She wasn’t some sort of coward, she insisted to herself as she walked down the corridors of the manor, she was _ Weiss Schnee—_she ran a company and fought _ monsters _ in her spare time—she could handle a little bit of awkwardness. 

(At least, that was what she convinced herself to believe.)

“Oh-!” She stopped, halting in the dining room and making eye-contact with her old team. Weiss hadn’t expected to see them immediately, but perhaps should have expected to come across their presence. The only thing wrong with the picture in front of her, was that her mother was sitting in front of them, legs crossed and mouth covered by a red muffler. “Mother.” She says, and can’t quite keep the chill out of her voice. “You’re… up.” 

Willow Schnee says nothing for a moment, long fingers (piano hands, similar to Weiss’ own) drumming against the arm of her handsome wooden chair almost absentmindedly. Despite the fact that Weiss was the one who could conjure snow and ice, there was always a distinct metaphorical cloud of winter draped across Willow’s shoulders—as though she reveled in the cold and bitterness—wearing the atmosphere of chill like a designer scarf. (Like a red scarf.)

_<Hello.>_ Willow murmured, voice shrouded in an accent so thick that it took Weiss a moment to realize she wasn’t speaking in Common. _<You didn’t tell me we had visitors.>_

_<You were indisposed.>_ Weiss shoots back without skipping a beat. _<After the attack… well—>_

“I know, child.” Willow rolled her eyes, effortlessly returning to a language their guests would understand. “Still.” Her eyes narrow, just a little. _<I would have liked to know.>_

“Apologies.” Weiss responded with a barely there sneer. _<Should I have asked your permission then?>_

A glint of humor shone through the cold of her mother’s eyes. “I’d appreciate it.” She said, raising a brow and allowing her lips to twitch upwards. She rose to her feet, all easy elegance and royal movements despite the fact that it was clear she’d been drinking. (Perhaps it was not clear to anyone else, but Weiss had been watching her mother consume wine by the bottle for years, and knew all the signs… Willow had been talkative, so she must be inebriated.) “I think I’ll return to the garden, the Freesias have been growing nice this year.” 

“And the Carnations?” Weiss asked, an indifferent mask on her face. Her mother always went to the gardens to drink.

“Ah.” Willow’s eyes sparkled. “You’ll have to be more specific, we have many different colors this year.” 

Weiss hummed, thinking of her mother. “Yellow, perhaps.” She noticed her team watching the banter with barely hidden interest. “Or striped.”

Willow raised a brow, easily smiling now. “Striped?” Her eyes flickered to Ruby. “How depressing.”

“Ignoring my yellow carnations, are you?” She asked.

“Yes, well…” Her mother’s eyes went cold. _<Your message had been received.>_

_<Not very well, it seems.>_ Weiss’ gaze narrowed. _<Leave if you must, but know that I—>_

“—am disappointed?” Willow finished for her, huffing and gathering her things. “Please, I’ve known that since you were five.” She rolled her eyes. “You may be subtle about most things, darling, but you have too much of your father in you to be adept at hiding them from _ me_.” 

Weiss said nothing, watching as her mother walked to the door, at the last second, the older woman paused—turning back to face her. 

“I’m having the gardeners plant Chrysanthemum flowers.” Willow said. _<Yellow.>_ And then she was gone—leaving Weiss to stare after her like so many times before. 

“That…” Yang started. “Was the tensest conversation about flowers I have ever heard before.” She leaned back into her chair, letting out a sigh of relief. “I didn’t even understand half of what you two were saying and I still got chills.” 

“Sorry.” Weiss apologized on instinct. “We don’t argue… like other people do.” 

“That has been made very clear.” Blake laughed a little, though there was a lingering concern in her eyes. “What’s all this about striped and yellow Carnations?” 

“Er—” Weiss winced. “You don’t want to know.” They really didn’t. 

“Right.” Ruby said this time, something on her face unreadable despite the broad smile so effortlessly painted on her lips. “Want some pie?”

Weiss did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so no wedding this chapter either... but this honestly just got so long i had to end it somewhere


	7. iris (or bitches broken hearts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was this her paradise lost?
> 
> It certainly felt like it, like she had been wrapped in a golden light, bathed in the divine—only to have it ripped away from her like it was nothing more than a simple cloak, a small unimportant piece of clothing snagged in a doorway and accidentally torn from her body. Was this her fault? Was she to blame for the pain that bubbled up inside her for every reminder of the happiness that she had squandered?
> 
> It was torturous, reliving her fall from grace over and over and over again—when she closed her eyes she could feel the wind in her hair, could feel the gut wrenching pain that came with holy wings burned away from her body. The hate for herself grew with every foot she fell, every inch spent away from the soft golden clouds she’d called home. Wrath grew from her chest and out, rotting the innocent apple tree she’d grown to love, caging her an overwhelming sense of loathing that came with lost joy and everlasting pain. 
> 
> or
> 
> In a garden of flowers, Yang sees what Ruby and Weiss embody.

Yang likes to think that all the things that happened in the past are a precise mixture between 'the avoidable' and 'the unavoidable.’ There are many instances where problems could have been avoided—where she could have been a bit more gentle, when she could have used a bit more force, little things. There are also many instances where problems _ couldn’t _ be avoided—where no matter how strong or witty or perfect she was, she couldn’t stop an issue from arising. She likes that she can look at a situation and categorize it, likes it because she finds her mistakes in ‘the avoidable’ and can become a better person because of it. She likes that she can look in ‘the unavoidable’ and become calm, understanding that what happened couldn’t be changed, and learning not to shoulder blame where there is none. 

The problem was, she didn’t really know what label Ruby and Weiss’ breakup fell under. On one hand, Yang was convinced that if the two had just took a moment to breathe away from each other, to gather themselves and decide on what they wanted to open up to each other about, they might have been fine—or at least, the would have ended things… better than they had. On the other, the situation was complicated, and considering the problems Weiss was having with herself and the issues that Ruby was having with the people around her… Well, let’s just say Yang isn’t so convinced that the fallout was preventable. 

It’s hard. Not only does the situation between the two of them have very little to actually do with Yang (though the endgame of their conflicts very much involve the people around them, Yang and Blake included) she can’t help but feel the tiniest bit… _ responsible_. 

Which, she knows, is completely and utterly stupid. 

Ruby and Weiss were adults now, and even if they were younger when they ended things, they both had been aged up by the war and the trauma that so often surrounded them. It was a terrible way to grow, a horrid type of flourishing where you bloom under the bloody and bruised hands of the warriors around you. Pulled from their stems, plucked up and into an arrangement or persona they had been meant to grow in naturally. It made them good at missions, sure. However, while they had their petals forcefully opened and pulled back, creating wonderful soldiers and freedom fighters—there were parts of them that stayed closed, that couldn’t blossom under the hard press of the lives around them. 

After watching Willow and Weiss Schnee argue, she decides to do some reading. She doesn’t quite know if she likes what she finds.

If people were made of plants, half of Weiss Schnee would be withered and old, the other beautiful and in bloom. Immaculately sorted, dead on the left side of her body and alive on the right. Begonias and Arbutus flowers stuffed into her mouth, coughing up the mix and match of emotions stained by blood and bile. Anemones and Daisies interwoven in the skin of her shoulders and arms—a single cut revealing soft violet blue and white petals, flooding from her body and fluttering in the world that surrounds her. Purple Hyacinths and Lavender Heathers, shoved into the gaping whole in her chest, brushing up against her heart and lungs with every movement, wrapping their roots and squeezing with every breath she takes and reaching down into her stomach. Gladiolus and Iris flowers bloom from her mind and eyes, reaching up and up and up, desperate for the light, for the reflection of another’s soul onto the pretty pink and violet petals, for the sun on their stems, for the water in their roots. 

She is cautious to the point of self-destruction, believing that she’s lost her love—that she is her own worst enemy, that others should beware her soul for it has been poked and prodded and ripped up—that she will destroy you while she destroys herself. _Forsaken_, she preaches to those who bother listening, _I am forsaken and damned, bleeding over the Anemones as the divine cry, staining them red with my death. _She would hold your hand over your own heart, whispering as she froze everything and everyone around her. _I would scorn you, _she’d whisper_, I have slighted two goddesses, both love and wonder in their own right—my purity has died with my fondness, my innocence forever lost._

She is infatuated with the gentle grip she keeps on her dwindling morality, holding it closer and closer to her chest as light seeps deeper and deeper inside of her. She is sincere, and she wishes that she could be strong. She is solitude, a pillar in a hurricane full of admiration she doesn’t see, storm clouds thundering over her head, she holds up the sky, Atlas incarnate. She hopes for forgiveness, bathing in a sorrow caused by her own unhealed wounds and the pain of those around her. But there is a part of her, no matter how sad, no matter how desperate—that embodies courage, hope for the return of her long lost faith in the things around her, in the faith in herself. _ I am sorry, _ she could hiss at you, _ that you have decided to cower in the face of it all, that you have lost your bravery and strength. _ She could raise you with a single gesture, a single flick of her white blonde hair. She could hold you up, for she is strong, for she holds up the sky.

If people were made of plants, half of Ruby Rose would be in bloom and the other half would be shut up tight, buds and tiny precious saplings who wished never to grow. Anthuriums and Asters curled in her chest, roots expanding across her collarbones and wrapping around her neck. Pink Calla Lilies and Daffodils draped like a crown on her head, mixing with the darkness of her hair, contrasting with her eyes. Freesias and Gardenias encasing her wrists and traveling up her arms, their stems and roots intertwining themselves like veins. White Heather flowers and Red Hyacinths growing from her ankles, flowing and dancing when she runs. Ivory Roses and Cyclamens sitting in her stomach, tickling her when she laughs and warming her when someone hugs her. Azaleas and Bellflowers envelop her totally and entirely, thin and small but encased in her ligaments and between her skin and muscles, curling around her ears and mouth and cheek bones, on the inside of her elbows and knees. 

Ruby Rose wants happiness, she wants it desperately and entirely. She wants a full life, one where she doesn’t have to be afraid to show hospitality, where she doesn’t have to fear love. She is willing to do what it takes for the world to go on, for her friends and family to understand that she holds them in the highest regard. But there is a part of her that is hopeless, awful at moving forward when it comes to the people that she admires, the friends that she respects. It is as though she is an echo personified, she reverberates and repeats—she lives in a pool of seemingly unrequited affection, in a constant state of wondering and thoughtfulness. But—there is more to her than just the faint repetition of an imprint, of feelings long passed, in people long gone. 

Once, when she was young, a strange bird flew to her—and whispered endless amounts of harsh words. “_Nevermore_.” It had quoted, croaking as it’s beak dripping with a seemingly endless amount of melancholy—and Ruby had understood. The Raven had poured the pain of losing someone into her—and though there was only contempt in the tone of it’s suffering, she found she could not feel anything other than sadness. 

Which brings us to this, Ruby Rose is not easily manipulated, not easily scorned—_I wish you would stay, _ she could say, _ if only so that you may take a moment and rest your head. _ Her words would wrap around anyone, could burrow deep into the mind of any person in passing—no matter how vile. Though she would dare not waste her effort on those she deemed undeserving. She could lift you up with gentle hands, careful and steady—but she could tear you down just the same, and if you find yourself on the receiving end of her wrath, know that even the softest of touches bring the hardest of punishments.

Yang sees this. She sees this and she does not know what she must feel. Weiss and Ruby are similar, she thinks, because they both know how to build and destroy. Weiss and Ruby are different, she knows, because they do so in such contrasting ways Yang often gets whiplash.

So she decides to watch, and wait. She knows that something is building upward, that there is a wall about to be breached—it’s in the way Weiss holds herself, in the way Ruby’s eyes glitter. For the life of her, Yang can not tell whether or not it will be a good thing.

(Whether or not it’s avoidable, or unavoidable.)

So she watches, and waits—and hopes that nobody gets hurt too badly. (Because despite herself, she does not think she could be able to stand the tension that fills the room whenever Ruby and Weiss have an argument.)

“Ruby.” Yang begins, “Weiss’ mom, do you know much about her?”

They had arrived in Atlas three days ago, still staying in the Schnee Manor. They planned to leave in another two days, when she found out they were staying at a shabby motel, Weiss had told them to choose any of the rooms in her home they wished. Weiss and her mother were the only ones actually living in the place, Whitley had long since began staying at the new Pine family ranch, and Winter avoiding the manor. Some of the staff lived on the grounds, but there were only two people actually sleeping here, Weiss and Willow. 

Her little sister furrows her brow, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. She knows that look, the expression Ruby gets when she has a hard decision to make. It’s in the way her head nods forward, spiky hair falling around her face and eyes, the hard line to her jaw and mouth that pulls the softness from her sister’s gentle face. It’s an expression that mirrors their father, mirrors their uncle. 

“Honestly? Weiss never talked a lot about her.” Ruby admits reluctantly, eyes straying away from her. “But… well, you remember what it was like when we had to secure the relic in Atlas.” 

Yang hums noncommittally, giving nothing away. “They don’t seem to get along.” She thinks back to the flowers. “They can be… really passive aggressive.”

Ruby snorted, “You don’t know the half of it.” 

“I looked up the flowers.” Yang says after a beat passes. “Weiss was right when she said we didn’t want to know what they were arguing about.” 

Her sister goes silent, and her eyes screwed up tightly. “Yang…” She begins, a clear warning in her voice. 

“You know flowers better than I do.” Yang continues, unperturbed. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know what they were talking about.”

“Half of their conversation was in German.” Ruby protested, “Just because I know a couple of symbolisms doesn’t mean I know exactly what they tied them to.”

“Ruby.” Yang mutters, “C’mon sis, don’t—” 

“Yang.” Her voice shakes. “Drop it.” 

It is with great reluctance (and great shame) that she did.

* * *

The next wedding Weiss Schnee sung at was for one Pyrrha Nikos and Jaune Arc. Of course, nothing between the two could be simple, but Weiss wasn’t too thrown when she received the plea for aid.

“I proposed.” Pyrrha told her when she answered the scroll call. “He said yes.”

Weiss let out a huff, she was sitting in her office, in the middle of finalizing some paperwork for a project some of the scientists wanted to work on. There means were a bit… juvenile, but if they succeeded then they just might be able to eradicate some of the dangers that came with mining dust. (A mission that Weiss had always wanted to change when faced with the mortality rates.)

“Why good morning Pyrrha, oh how was my day, you ask? Quite trying if I do say so myself, see I got a call from a dear friend in the morning, and before saying hello she went and—”

“Okay I get it.” Weiss could sense the other woman her rolling her eyes. “I just thought I ought to tell you, considering Sun said you’d sing for me.” 

“He did _ what_?!” Sun Wukong, though he may be her friend, was going to get his face so monumentally broken that nobody would ever recognize him ever again. 

“That’s why I called, I wanted to make sure he’d actually told you.” Pyrrha explained through a soft laugh. “If you don’t want to though, I’m sure Jaune and I could make other arrangements—”

Weiss scoffed, cutting her off. “Don’t be stupid, of course I’ll sing for you.” 

Pyrrha went silent for a moment. “Thank you Weiss.” 

She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable for a moment, before sighing. “Did you have a song in mind?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” She could _ hear _ the smile in Pyrrha’s voice. “And luckily for you, it’s actually already one you’re familiar with.” 

Weiss raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Color her intrigued. When Pyrrha Nikos gave Weiss Schnee the song name, a genuine smile worked its way up to her lips. “Good choice.”

“I do so try.” Was her response, but it was colored with an emotion that she couldn’t make sense of. “Will you still do it?”

“What do you—”

“That song…” Pyrrha took a shaky breath. “I know what that song was for.” 

Weiss shut her eyes up tight to prevent any stray tears from escaping. “Do you?” She whispers softly, words barely forming in her mouth. “How?”

“I’m not dense, Weiss.” She said. “Those lyrics… the fact that it was finished just before you separated.” Pyrrha paused. “Does she even know? That you wrote it for her, I mean.”

“Does it really matter?” She asked hesitantly. “She… she wanted me gone.”

“She really didn’t.” Pyrrha murmured into the scroll. “She really _ really _ didn’t.”

“You can’t know that.” Weiss’ voice cracked shamefully. She swallowed the lump in her throat, hyper aware of the frost that had began to coat her surroundings. “She said—”

“I don’t know what it was that led to things ending, but I know that you two loved each other desperately and entirely, it was beautiful to see.” 

“Not entirely.” Weiss whispered, gripping at her chest. “I’ve never… I was never able to give her what she deserved, everything.”

Pyrrha went quiet for a moment. “You never _had_ to give everything.”

Weiss nearly crushed her scroll. “That’s enough.”

“Alright.”

They talked more amongst themselves after that, discussing preparations for the wedding and other more trivial conversation topics, before Weiss had to be pulled away for work. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t know whether or not she’d be able to sing the song that Pyrrha had asked of her without losing herself to the careless whims of her aura, but she also knew that she would never be able to forgive herself if she didn’t try. 

She stood, tidying her work and decided to make her way to the family gardens.

Weiss remembers another time when she was forced to talk about her feelings. It was a couple of months before the breakup, and things were beginning to become… complex. It was strange, she thought at the time, because she couldn’t quite understand what was happening, what was starting to turn and shift and change. 

Evolution is a curious thing. Weiss had always felt this way, had always been fascinated on how creatures and monsters and people seemed to change to conform to the environment around them, how the strongest wills seemed to bend in the face of an unavoidable obstacle. She’d listen to Professor Oobleck and Port, absolutely fascinated as the two men had gone on and on and on about the way things have mutated, the way organisms had to curve—lest they become victims of an immovable object. 

“She leaves me full.” Weiss had said to her brother, who hadn’t quite understood how she could love. He hadn’t quite grasped the fact that she was capable of it, hadn’t understood why she would willingly succumb to a weakness. (This was at the time when he understood that their father was not ‘_good_’ and was seeking guidance about how to be different, better. He hadn’t yet overcome the influence that their father had over them—though neither had Weiss, not entirely.) She had thought of Ruby and her love, her affection. (She could not help but compare herself to evolution in the face of the woman she adored.) “It’s like a burst, overflowing and unsteady—leaving me…” She’d smiled. “Full.” It was the warmth, the heat of Ruby’s hands when they brushed against her cheeks and shoulders. Still, something had snuck into her chest, squeezing and suffocating her with every breath she took, with every word she had said to Ruby.

“And that’s…” He hesitated, choking on the words, drowning on the implications. “..._ good_?” Whitley sniffed, straightening his shoulders in embarrassment, like he couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact that he was confused. 

“Sometimes.” Weiss said, thinking to herself. They’d been sitting in the gardens at the Schnee manor, the only place they can sit without bad memories of their father (though there were plenty of their mother.) “It feels like I’m suffocated sometimes.” She looked him in the eyes, nudging her pinky with his. “Like I’m smothered—but other times, it’s like I’ve been deprived, like I’m drowning and the air I need to survive is her.” 

“Why?” Whitley asked, recoiling, though not moving his hand away from hers. “Why would you put yourself through that—no offence of course, dear sister—but it sounds _ barbaric_.”

“Because when I’m centered, when my point of gravity is balanced, it is so… _ warm_.” She smiled at him, a real, genuine smile. Whitley had went still, and she remembered that she hadn’t been at all surprised. It must have been one of the first times he’d seen her look at _ him _ like that. “I was so surprised, brother—because I hadn’t realized I’d been frozen before her, and now, well now it’s like I’m being thawed out.” 

(She remembers realizing that Ruby had been… different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on how, but she had changed, mutated—gone through the process of evolution before Weiss’ very eyes, and she hadn’t even _ noticed_. It hurt. It had stung so badly. _How could she have missed it? How could she have—_)

“I… I see.” Whitley murmured, glacier eyes going fuzzy. “I’ve… I’ve never felt warm before.” Before Weiss could open her mouth to say that she would give him all the affection he wanted, he snapped out of the daze he’d fallen into. His face hardened, features that had been soft and round going sharp and pointy—he’d said something he hadn’t meant to. “Regardless,” He began. “What you describe is still… unnerving.” Whitley pushed back at his hair, taking a deep breath. “Anyway, about the renovation for the mines—”

Weiss smiled, tiny and a little defeated, but allowed him to change the subject.

But anyway, she had been fascinated by the process of evolution. 

There is an issue, a problem, or an obstacle that one must adapt to. You have to go through it, learn how to resolve it—or you have to adapt, build around, over, or under it. You have to grow… have to _ evolve_. 

(Evolution. Despite the fact he never really understood the process, her father had always been fascinated by this too.)

That’s how Yang finds her, sitting in the garden, pondering evolution and her brother’s old words. 

“Weiss.” She begins, her voice sounds strange, though she could not quite place exactly why. “I think we need to talk.” 

She looks up at her old teammate, and wonders just what Yang Xiao Long has in store for her. “Alright.” She concedes, nodding towards the chair in front of her. “Care for a game of chess?”

“Always been a checkers girl, myself.” Yang admits, sitting down.

Weiss smiled. “You’re in luck then." She winked, "I’m terrible at checkers.” She pushes the pieces off the board and into a small dark wood box, pulling a much brighter red one from her bag. “I don’t remember how to play.” She admitted, a tad sheepish.

Yang snorted, smiling easily. “I’ll teach you then.” 

They play a couple of games, Weiss loses every single one. She doesn’t mind not winning, truth be told, but she pretends to be childish and pouts whenever Yang shoots her a slightly cocky smirk. It’s fun, staying like that for a while, idly chatting and making jokes that hold no real importance. Weiss had almost forgotten what it was like, having her in her life—a ray of strength and support that feels unending. 

“We ought to do this more often.” Yang says, a content look on her face. “It’s pretty awesome, beating super CEO _Weiss Schnee_ at something as simple as _ checkers_.”

Weiss wrinkles her nose. “You’re an ass.” 

Yang laughs loudly, throwing back her head as her violet eyes widen in obvious surprise. “Oh my god!” She grins, pointing a finger at Weiss’ face. “I thought words like ‘ass’ were too _ ‘unsophisticated’ _ for someone as _ ‘eloquent’ _ as you.” She pretends to stroke her chin, and does her best to look every bit like the snooty rich person she thinks Weiss is. “Well I say, sir—your face is an excellent way to remind one of a donkey’s behind, and by that I simply mean it is quite shapely and smells vaguely of—”

“Enough.” Weiss hisses out, though there is a slight blush to her cheeks. “All have you know my vocabulary is _ extensive_.” She huffed, crossing her arms and doing her best not to look petulant.

“I’m sure.” Yang drawled, still grinning. Something dark flickers across her expression for a moment, and she looks down, beginning to put the game pieces back on the board. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.” She says, fingers twitching with each movement of her arm.

Weiss sighed, leaning back into her chair as she allowed Yang to continue to set up the board. She knew that the talk was coming, that there was something important her old teammate had wanted to discuss, but Weiss was far too exhausted to put together what the problem was. “Alright.” She leans onto the palm of her hand, eyeing Yang distrustfully. “Ask away.” 

Yang hesitates, robotic arm twitching. “Do you still love Ruby?”

If Weiss focuses hard enough, she thinks she might be able to hear the sound of glass shattering. (What was with this question? How could Yang even begin to think she could ever ask her something like this? Why was she bringing this up _now_—) She clenches her jaw, closing her eyes tightly as she tries to reign in the dangerous crawling of ice that threatens to meld it’s way onto her body.

“Does it matter?” She grits her teeth. 

“You don’t have to work so hard to control your aura here.” Yang says sagely, Weiss looks up to see her hair has started to glow. “I counteract the ice, remember?” 

“We’re in the garden.” Weiss reminds her, barely managing to not roll her eyes. “We aren’t the only living things here.”

Yang’s eyes flicker to the beds of flowers that surround them. “Hmm?”

“This is my mother’s safe place.” The words escape her. “I will not risk it for her.” Her problems with Willow Schnee meant nothing in the place of the garden, nothing in the paradise that may be lost. 

“Are there any fruit trees here? Berry bushes, crops?” Yang asks curiously, and Weiss is thankful for the temporary change of subject.

“Four apple trees.” Weiss says. “Four is an important number, here.” 

“Everywhere.” Yang argues, “It’s all over the place, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.” Weiss hums in agreement, and the frost that had clambered its way onto her cheeks begins to melt. “Here, one is planted for every member of the family… there used to be more… as a matter of fact, one of the four we still do have is beginning to rot. My grandfather called them_ die geburt _ trees.” (Translating to ‘the birth’ in English from German.)

“Oh?” Yang frowns. “It must not be doing good in the high altitude.”

“Perhaps…” Weiss trailed off, looking away, before a bitter smile began to grace her lips. “I wonder if they represent more than simple apple trees.” Her eyes flicker back to Yang’s own. “Considering there are only four, and that it’s the only green apple tree to be planted here.” 

Yang blinked.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Weiss sighed. “With every new entry to the Schnee family, married into or born, a week after their entry, a single Gala apple tree was planted. The story behind the Granny Smith apple tree is quite simple, years ago, when my grandfather was still alive, he couldn’t find any red apple seeds, apparently they’d been crushed in a shipping accident when he ordered them. Dismayed, he ordered one of the… _ guards—_” She fought the urge to snarl, “—to find any other apple tree seeds, lest the newborn child be born without the tradition being fulfilled.”

“That’s… nice?” Yang tried.

Weiss snorted. “Mhmm. Mother was always able to tell it better than me.” She flared her hands a little. “Much more dramatics, the desperation to find an apple seed, a possible curse being cast upon the baby, twelve labors in seven days things like that—” She pursed her lips, rolling her eyes, “—the devil’s in the details, I suppose.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Yang asked.

“Why did you ask it of me?” Weiss deflects, referring to the question that had nearly made her freeze the entire garden. It’d be a rebellion, she presumed, but not the one she’d enjoy being apart of, despite her penchant for… _ defiance. _“It’s an incredibly personal question, one that I fear has no correct answer.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Yang tilted her head. “You… you don’t owe me anything, Weiss, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but let me ask the question one more time, if only because she’s my sister—and I want to take care of her.”

Weiss frowned, but waved her hand, allowing her to continue.

“Do you love Ruby?”

She smiled, bitter.

“Oh, Yang.” Icy eyes met violet. 

_ I never stopped. _

Yang hummed, eyeing her with something akin to sympathy. “We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon.” She set a hand over her own. “It would be a good idea to be there for it.”

“Do you really think so?” Weiss drawled, inwardly scrambling to get a hold on her emotions. 

“Yes.” Yang answered without hesitation. “Do you?”

Weiss found that she couldn’t quite settle on a suitable answer. She looked down taking a deep breath and managing a spiteful laugh. “I’ve had enough personal questions today, thanks.”

Yang hummed, removing her hand and finished setting up the board. “Wanna play again?”

Weiss nodded, and the game continued.

The next morning, Weiss forced herself to wake up early, and asked the cooks in the Schnee house staff to bake a handful of apple pies.

“Of course.” Madam Ginger beamed at her. “We’ll get on that right away Miss Schnee… as a matter of fact—” The older woman reached for a large basket, about the size of a large suitcase, and started struggling to get it up on the counter. Weiss, alarmed, hurried forward to help her—placing it down in front of her. (She got a smack to the hand with a wooden spoon for her troubles.) “Oh honestly, Miss Schnee, I’m not _ that _ old.” She rolled her eyes. “But, here, I thought you’d like it if we used these.” 

Madam Ginger unveiled the basket, and Weiss felt her eyes go wide at the sight. 

_ Green apples. _

“We managed to save these from the tree out back.” Madam Ginger stated jovial. “I knew that you would want them, so I had one of the gardeners find all the good ones and put 'em in this basket.” She wistful sigh escaped her mouth, cheeks flushing when Weiss continued to stare. “Oh don’t give me that look, Miss Schnee, it was _ your _ tree after all, I couldn’t just let all the good ones rot.” A nod of her head, ginger and red hair that had long since began to gray falling into her face. “You grew with that tree, you know? I hate seeing it go.” 

“Right.” Weiss whispered, shaking herself out of her surprise. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me for doing my job, miss.” Madam Ginger said with a wink, “Now—want me to bake some ‘o these into pies?”

“If you could.” Weiss said, only after a brief hesitation. 

To say her old team was pleasantly surprised seemed to be an understatement. Blake happily ate her pie, simultaneously morning the loss of the one she’d brought Weiss (which had tragically perished in the attack) and gave her a tiny hug. Yang smiled brightly, so warm it almost burned the skin, saying some goofy joke about apples that Weiss barely listened to. Somehow, Ruby’s reaction was the one that drew her attention. She had a broad smile on her face, joking around with her sister and gushing over the sweetness of the apple pie. Her happiness poked holes in Weiss’ soul, pinching and pulling in places that hadn’t been used in a long time. She closed her eyes tightly, momentarily excusing herself and retreating to the nearby kitchen. 

She sighed against the wall, leaning against the refrigerator and ignoring Madam Ginger’s increasingly worried looks.

Was this her paradise lost?

It certainly felt like it, like she had been wrapped in a golden light, bathed in the divine—only to have it ripped away from her like it was nothing more than a simple cloak, a small unimportant piece of clothing snagged in a doorway and accidentally torn from her body. Was this her fault? Was she to blame for the pain that bubbled up inside her for every reminder of the happiness that she had squandered?

It was torturous, reliving her fall from grace over and over and _ over _ again—when she closed her eyes she could feel the wind in her hair, could feel the gut wrenching pain that came with holy wings burned away from her body. The hate for herself grew with every foot she fell, every inch spent away from the soft golden clouds she’d called home. Wrath grew from her chest and out, rotting the innocent apple tree she’d grown to love, caging her an overwhelming sense of loathing that came with lost joy and everlasting pain. 

“Miss Schnee.” Madam Ginger whispered hesitantly, when she received no response, she sighed—taking a deep breath. “Weiss, sweetheart, look at me.”

She clenched her fists, sighing and slowly lifting her gaze to meet the older woman's. 

If Piper VonHamln reminded Weiss of her grandfather, than Ginger Aylesworth could only shed light to her long deceased grandmother. She was old, a little bit shorter than Weiss herself with much broader shoulders. Her face was covered in wrinkles and freckles, skin sun-kissed despite Atlas’ chill. Her hands were large, sprinkled with moles and birthmarks, always warm despite the ice that seemed to revolve around Schnee Manor. Though her auburn hair was streaked with gray, there was a youthfulness in her green eyes that had always astounded Weiss. 

“You need to breathe, okay?” Hesitantly, gently, Madam Ginger placed a weathered hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “In and out, try not to inhale too much cinnamon.” She joked.

“Funny.” She coughed out, placing a palm and pressing it hard against her chest. “You can become a comedian, with that kind of humor.”

“I do so try.” Madam Ginger grinned weakly, winking. The action reminded Weiss so fiercely of Pyrrha she almost began to cry. 

It took another minute or so before Weiss was able to breathe without wanting to fall apart. Her lungs shook with her deep sighs and gasps, “Thank you.” 

“I live to serve.” She smiled softly. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Better now.” Weiss admitted. “Please excuse my unprofessionalism.” 

“Pfft.” Madam Ginger scoffed in a dismissive tone, “I’ve known you since you were five, God knows how many times I caught you and your brother in here trying to spoil your supper, a little unprofessionalism is warranted from time to time, don’t you think?”

Weiss laughed, feeling the strength begin to sap out of her. “Sorry, Madam Ginger, I’ll do better.”

“You best,” She scolded, “Can’t have my favorite Schnee-bling workin' herself to death.”

“Your favorite _Schnee-bling_?” Weiss asked with a surprised bark of laughter. “What?”

“Oh hush, you.” Madam Ginger rolled her eyes. “It’s not like your brother or sister ever talked much to the staff, that mangy old father of yours stamped it out of them quick… you were always more defiant than them, you know—always made an effort to know at least a handful of names around here—even if you only learned them because of a little childlike rebellion.” 

Weiss didn’t know how to reply to her, only aware of the fact that her eyes were widening in shock. “Er—thank you.”

“Didn’t mean it as a compliment.” Madam Ginger teased. “Wanna tell me what’s troublin’ you, sweetheart? Or do you need a minute alone with a slice of pie?” 

Weiss rubbed her shoulder a little awkwardly. “It’s nothing important, Madam Ginger, just a little… wrathful, I suppose.”

The older woman hummed, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Now there’s something you don’t see everyday.” She laughed. “A Schnee, admitting they have a problem? Never thought I’d live to see it happen.” 

Weiss scowled. “You’re _ so _ funny.” 

“Damn straight.” Madam Ginger nodded seriously. “Now enough sulkin' in the corner, with respect kid, you aren’t a sullen teenager anymore—so stop acting like it.” 

“I can fire you.” Weiss said, knowing full well that Madam Ginger knew she wouldn’t. “I’m mad with power, I can do it.”

“You wouldn’t fire me for all the money in the world.” The older woman responded with a wink. “Up and at it, now, come along.”

A knock on the kitchen door interrupted them, and Ruby poked her head in. She peered around the area for a second, eyes widening at the appliances, before settling on where Weiss and Madam Ginger were leaning against the wall. “Hey!” She greeted. “Just wanted to come check up on you.”

“Oh! Er—I’m fine.” Weiss scrambled a little bit, thrown.

Madam Ginger blinked in surprise, before a devious smile stretched onto her face. Weiss shivered a little, why did she feel like something bad was about to happen?

“Lemme’ get those apples for you, sweetheart, I know you’ve been dyin’ ta see em’.” The old woman drawled, accent coming on thicker than before. She began to reach down and pull the basket from before up onto the counter—only for Weiss to sigh in exasperation and take from her.

“Stop lifting heavy things.” Weiss scolded. “What would I do if you fell and broke your back one day? Nobody else makes gingerbread cookies as well as you do.” 

“Oh honestly.” Madam Ginger rolled her eyes, “The day I drop dead is the day the moon repairs itself.” 

Weiss scowled. “But—”

“Drop it, sweetheart, no use worrying ‘bout the future when the present is such a gift.” 

“That was the corniest thing I’ve ever heard.” She rolled her eyes.

Madam Ginger huffed, looking up and noticing Ruby still loitering in the doorway. “Are you gonna come in or not, Red? Can’t just stare, there laws about that, you know?”

Ruby flushed a little, scrambling inside. “Sorry.” Her voice was an endearing squeak. “I’m Ruby Rose.” She stuck out her palm awkwardly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Madam Ginger raised an eyebrow, taking her hand and shaking it. “Ginger Aylesworth, but you can just call me Gam, or if you’re like little-miss-stick-up-her-rear here—” She gestured to Weiss, “—Madam Ginger.”

Ruby laughed. “Okay, Gam.”

Weiss furrowed her brow. “I have to keep a certain degree of professionalism—” 

“Oh posh,” She dismissed her with a lazy wave, tossing Ruby a green apple. “I watched you grow up, kiddo. I think that means you can drop the honorifics every once in a while.” 

Weiss crossed her arms against her chest, scowling.

“Wow!” Ruby interrupted excitedly, taking a bite out of her apple, “You’ve really worked here that long?”

“Darn right.” Madam Ginger stated proudly. “Been here for nearly two decades, started when I was forty, this one was about five.” She stuck her thumb at Weiss. 

“Cool! You must have so many stories—” Ruby vibrated excitedly.

“_What_!? No she does _ not—_” Weiss interrupted desperately, “Not a single one—” 

Ruby and Madam Ginger’s laughs cut her off, and Weiss was suddenly struck by the intimacy in the situation. Ruby was in her kitchen (large and pristine it may be) talking to a woman that Weiss considered close, smiling and talking with her—asking what Weiss was like as a child. It was… domestic. 

“I’ll tell you one story,” Madam Ginger begins, “But only if you go and see my favorite part of the manor before you leave.”

“Oh?” Ruby asked, “What’s that?”

(Weiss was curious too, but she hid it well.)

“Oh it’s a breathtaking area.” Madam Ginger gushed. “Do an old woman a favor, and go see the _ die geburt _ trees?”

Weiss went still, but managed to cough out, “It’s grammatically incorrect to say ‘_t__he die geburt’ _ trees, it’s like saying _ ‘the’ _ twice.”

“Yes!” Ruby agreed immediately, oblivious to Weiss’ inner turmoil. She turned to look at her. “You’ll take me, right?”

“Now?” Weiss mumbled, “The garden is… usually _ occupied,_ at this time of day.”

Ruby paused. 

“You don’t have to go through the main entrance.” Madam Ginger reminded her, “Just past the fountain and through the grove.”

“Of course…” She shook her head, smiling weakly. “I’ll take her.”

“Atta girl.” The older woman praised, a soft look on her face. She turned to Ruby, an inviting quirk to her lips. “What do you wanna know about?”

Ruby, bouncing back quickly, hummed—placing her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “Well… what kind of stories do you have?”

“Oh, loads.” Madam Ginger snickered. “I can tell you about her brush with fencing, or one of the times where she practically worshiped the ground that her older sister walked on—” She snorted, “—hell, I can even tell you why she got that scar.” 

“The scar is off limits.” Weiss said immediately, smiling goodnaturedly despite her discomfort. “Come on, you know that.”

Madam Ginger brushed her off, “I wasn’t going to tell her _ how _ you got it, just _ why _ you kept it—I value my job a little more than your embarrassment thanks.” 

“You could’ve gotten rid of it?” Ruby asked, looking at Weiss like she’d never seen her before.

“Mhmm.” She nodded, “Atlas’ healing technology is top of the line—I could probably even shrink them both still, despite their age.” Her gloved hand went to her left cheek, where two scars crossed over each other, one from when she was seventeen, the other obtained two years later. “I’d just rather not.” 

“Know why?” Madam Ginger stage-whispered to Ruby. “Have you seen that old portrait in the attic that used to be in the main hall? She _ despises _ getting her picture painted, I mean absolutely loathes it. A lot of the artists can never get her scar quite right—not to mention it’s boring, Miss Schnee here would rather mar her pretty _ pretty _ face than be forced to do _ another _ portrait.”

“I thought I’d thrown that old thing out.” Weiss frowned. “Remind me to burn it.”

“Not before I show it to Red here.” Madam Ginger sing-songed. “All of you look so depressed, it’s hilarious.” 

Weiss frown deepened. “And that’s filled my social quota for the day, I’m going to leave now, thank you.”

Madam Ginger rolled her eyes in exasperation, a fond smile on her lips. “Wait a minute, Miss Schnee, I haven’t even told her an embarrassing childhood story yet! Isn’t that a right of passage?”

“Hurry it along then.” Weiss snapped, “I still apparently have to show her the apple trees.” 

“Okay, c’mere Red, I’m gonna whisper it to you.” Madam Ginger gestured for Ruby to come closer to her.

“What, why?”

“It’s a bit more fun if Miss Schnee doesn’t know what I told you, she gets so frustrated.” She cackled. “Not to mention you could just bring it up randomly one day, give her a real good shock.” 

Weiss frowned, crossing her arms and pouting as Madam Ginger whispered something to Ruby so quietly that even straining her ears wouldn’t allow her to hear a single word said. She twitched, doing her best to convince herself that what was happening did not bother her, and nothing Madam Ginger told Ruby would embarrass her. 

(She failed when the sound of her old partner’s surprised laughter met her ears.)

Soon, the older woman shooed the two out of the kitchen, reminding them both that they promised to go see the apple trees. Weiss rolled her eyes, mumbling her acceptance, and made to return to the dining room that Ruby had left Blake and Yang in. She figured that if she was going to be made to visit the birth trees, she may as well invite everyone. 

“There you guys are!” Yang beamed, “Where’d you run off to?”

“I met Gam.” Ruby smiled back, “She’s really nice.”

“Isn’t she just?” Yang responded, “Did you know that she beat one of the intruders with a rolling pin?”

Weiss fought the scowl that threatened to overcome her calm facade. “Would you like to come with us to see the trees I told you about?”

Yang paused, glancing between them for a moment. “I was under the impression that you didn’t like to think about them.”

“I don’t.” Weiss responded. “Want to go see them anyway?”

Blake, who Yang had clearly filled in on the conversation the day before, shook her head. “You two go on alone, I still have to finish my pie.” She gestured to the table, where a couple of slices of the pastry still sat, untouched.

“Fine.” Weiss rolled her eyes, surprising everyone when she agreed. She glared at them when she noticed their facial expressions. “What?” She asked defensively. 

“Nothing.” Ruby laughed, her cheeks were slightly flushed, “Take me to the trees?”

Reluctantly, Weiss nodded, and began to lead her to the garden, frowning when she looked back and saw the fake innocent looks on Blake and Yang’s faces. She rolled her eyes, deciding that deciphering what was going on wasn’t worth the trouble, and swiftly continued forward. 

“Past the fountain and through the grove.” Weiss hummed softly, the action instinctual as she walked into one of the garden shortcuts. “You’ll find a slew of dead trees that never grew old, the secrets you’ll find unending and never told, just past the fountain and through the grove.”

She was interrupted by the soft huffs of laughter coming from her forgotten companion. 

Weiss blinked, flushing up to her ears. She brought the back of her gloved hand to her mouth, coughing awkwardly. “Shut up.” She grumbled.

“Aw! Don’t stop, I wanna hear.” Ruby protested. “It’s a nice little tune, don’t you think? Gives this whole thing a sort of adventurous feeling.” She vibrates a little, using her semblance to speed in front of her. She leaned forward, grinning impishly and clasping her hands behind her back as she walked backward. 

“I’m never singing in front of you ever again.” Weiss rolled her eyes, her face still a tad pink. “Don’t bother asking it of me.”

Ruby pouted. “You’re so mean.”

“It’s a gift, truly.” Weiss drawled. “Now do you want to see the trees or not?”

“Yes!” Ruby agreed hastily, hurrying to follow Weiss as she moved forward. 

The continued forward, all the while Ruby

-ed and ah-ed the abundance of flowers that littered the garden in perfect beds. The petals seemed to bloom in her presence, as if to open their little mouths and say, “Pick me, pick me—” Begging to be behold by the woman made of sunlight and gentleness. Weiss wondered if they were called flower beds because some of the plants always looked soft enough to sleep on. 

“Here we are.” Weiss said as she patched one of the arches, she looked to the floor, staring at the stone slabs beneath her feet. Just in front of her, lay a large round plate of copper, about the size of a pizza or a sewer lid. It was polished and handsome, the barest hint of green dusted across the edges of the circular piece of metal. Engraved, was the name Schnee, and a phrase in German that never failed to turn her blood cold.

“Weiss?” Ruby asked, shaking her from her daze.

“Yes?” She asked, looking at her.

Her old partner was not facing her, instead of her eyes danced from tree to tree, lingering on the dead ones and settling on the single rotting Granny Smith apple tree. “It’s… dying.” Ruby murmured.

“It’s called heart rot,” She explained, “It decays on itself from the inside out.” 

Ruby shivered, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. “It’s the only green one.”

“Mhmm.” Weiss smiled wryly. “It was mine.”

“What?” Ruby asked.

“It’s a tradition to add an apple tree here when someone joins the family.” Weiss stated flatly. “Usually, it’s a Gala tree, but my family didn’t have any seeds when I was born, so they used a Granny Smith.”

“So it’s—” Ruby cut herself, hesitating, and changing the question she’d been about to ask. “It’s older than me?”

“Pretty much.” Weiss agreed. “It’s been rotting for about two years.” She frowned. “It’s an unnatural disease though, nothing we’ve done is helping it fight off the disease.” 

Ruby paused. “You’re sad.”

“Yes.” Weiss agreed. “I grew up with this tree, it represents… all of me.”

“And it’s dying.” 

“Yes.”

“From heart rot.”

“Yes.” Weiss tilted her head. Why was Ruby asking questions that she’d already knew the answers to?

“So…” Ruby begins slowly, “Can that be compared to your aura problem?”

Weiss smiled. “Are you asking if I’m dying?”

A flash of fear crosses Ruby’s features, her eyes are still on the rotting apple tree. “Are you?”

“Everybody’s dying.” Weiss looks away from her face, instead allowing her gaze to drift to the three other trees in the grove. Willow’s, Winter’s, and Whitley’s. (She’d long since had her father’s cut down.) “It can kill me, make no mistake, but if I’m mindful of my aura I’ll live a long life.” 

“So it’s like anything.” Ruby asked softy, a degree of relief in her tone of voice.

“Perhaps.” Weiss stated cryptically, silently moving forward, pressing the palm of her hand to her dying tree. 

“Are you ever going to say how it happened to you?” She sounded closer than before, but Weiss couldn’t bring herself to look and see if she was.

“I don’t know.” Weiss admitted honestly. “I wasn’t lying when I said what happened had been an accident.” She just hid the part where her father had decided luring her into an experimental dust project was a good idea.

“Weiss.” Ruby whispered, “Can you look at me?”

She didn’t know if she could, so she closed her eyes tightly, and turned to where she’d last heard Ruby’s voice. 

Weiss felt a palm cup the side of her cheek. 

Her heart stuttered, and for a moment she feared that the pain that flared through her chest was external, that someone had hit her in the front so hard she could barely breathe. Her lungs stuttered, nobody had touched her, only Ruby—and she was simply holding her hand to her jaw, fingers molding just under the hard line. 

“I think it’d be really nice if you could open your eyes.” Ruby said gently, the words washing over Weiss’ face like a gentle wind. 

“What are you doing?” She asked back, and despite her fear her voice was calm and even, steady even in the face of emotional backlash.

“I don’t know.” Ruby was honest, and despite the turmoil her sentence had caused an unending amount of warmth curled in her chest anyway.

Weiss Schnee melts in the face of Ruby Rose, it was true from the moment the moment they had met. Something about the woman in front of her never failed to rid her of her decorum, robbing her of the little composure she had. Knowing this, knowing that the moment she met silver eyes she’d lose herself, Weiss Schnee allowed her eye-lids to flutter open. 

Ruby was dizzyingly close. Long and dark lashes brushed her cheeks, red from the cold and something else that Weiss didn’t want to think about. Ruby’s breath caught in her throat, lips opening around a little ‘_oh_,’ her face lowered, eyes flashing. 

They were like mirrors, silvery pools that threaded the warmest of emotions together, a window into the woman that Weiss had cared for so dearly, so effortlessly. 

Tears burned Weiss’ eyes, and her throat ached. 

Ruby brushed at the scar under her left eye, wiping away the wetness that had unknowingly accumulated there. 

“Thank you for showing me this, Weiss.” Ruby said, and pressed a single kiss to the top of her forehead, brushing her petal-soft lips against the top of her oldest scar.

Two feet away, the rotting green apple tree froze in place, standing tall in the face of it’s family members (the opposite of it, red and living) and watched as they remained dancing in the frigid wind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it obvious i've been reading paradise lost? anyway, arkos wedding next chapter my dudes!!! yay!!! (side note, Madam Ginger totally ships Whiterose)
> 
> also, the lyrics that weiss sings are from a poem of mine
> 
> Just past the fountain and through the grove  
There's a place we can play hide and seek,  
It's there that you'll find a sight so neat  
you're eyes may fall out, so bright and sweet  
Just past the fountain and through the grove  
you’ll find a slew of dead trees that never grew old,  
The secrets you’ll find unending and never told,  
Just past the fountain and through the grove,  
Those trees don't age, they can't grow old  
Will you find me, when I go?  
Just past the fountain and through the grove


	8. and i'll keep burning this way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is a secret, a delightfully delicious little known fact: Weiss had written a song, had poured her heart and soul and fear into a melody that would’ve made the strongest of archangels weep in fear and sadness. She’d crafted music born of great suffering and love, had pushed and pushed and pushed—until finally only the most deserving of notes were left for her to sing to, until every useless and terrible feeling was out of her body and into the air around her.
> 
> or
> 
> (Because this song was about Ruby after all, about Ruby and the people around them creating bonds that would latch on to the soul of each other. The bonds that would engrave themselves so deep inside of them no amount of tearing through their bodies would let loose their faith in one another, tattooing love and hope and desire so deep into their skin that the ink of their emotion scraped through the bone.)
> 
> or
> 
> She loves Ruby, and she wishes that it didn’t feel so much like a death sentence.

So maybe Ruby Rose isn't exactly over Weiss Schnee. So maybe Ruby Rose is still entirely and totally in love with Weiss Schnee. So maybe Ruby Rose is freaking out in her bedroom, hyperventilating about the fact that she almost _kissed_ Weiss Schnee. 

Regardless, Ruby was starting to seriously panic, and there was nothing that could seemingly be _ done _ about it. It settled just under her skin, making her palms and the spaces behind her knees and elbows itch. There was a certain pain to heart ache, a very particular pain and prose that made it so easy for someone to be subject to it. Ruby Rose, it seemed, was no exception.

So she lay there, curled in on herself on top of her bed, wondering just how she’d managed to find herself in this situation not once—but _ twice_. Ruby thought, stupidly, that the first time she’d gotten her heart broken by Weiss Schnee that would be it. _ Sure_—the pain might last long and the journey afterwards might be _ hard_—but surely she’d only had to go through it once, surely her suffering was _ over? _

Why did she have to get these things wrong?

Ruby Rose broke up with Weiss Schnee, there was no doubt about it—there was no ‘oops I made a mistake’ there was no ‘take backs’ or way to change her mind after it was done. 

She broke up with her… because well, they’d started to break each other’s hearts. 

(To shatter another’s heart is not a very difficult feat, it is not something that does not happen every day—but note that in this case, it was something of an ordeal for suffering to be wrought upon the two of them.)

Perhaps she should start from the beginning.

(The very beginning.)

Ruby Rose fell in love quietly.

It was nothing like her sister, nothing like the brashness and passion and the _flame _ that seemed to ooze from Yang’s every molecule. It was nothing like her teammate, nothing like the way bravery and hope paved the way for something wonderful, something great. It was nothing like the way her friends seemed to find each other, whether it be reuniting after something as separating as a death (a fake one) or the embodiment of a hoarsely whispered _ ‘finally’ _ after a long, _ long _day.

_ No, _ Ruby fell in love quietly, almost covertly… subtly. It was so unlike her, the way she came about her affection for Weiss, so contrasting to the way she did and felt everything else she’d almost categorized her affections as something else entirely. But it was love, it would always _ be _ love—and though Ruby had fought against it, brutal and ruthless and desperate—she had lost, succumb solemnly to the hold that Weiss held on her heart. 

So Ruby fell, quietly—unnoticed, to the point where even Yang, her sister who’d known her more intimately than anyone else, could not see the longing that kept her hands steady, the yearn for chilly blue eyes that had long since warmed up. 

(The eyes that scorched her very _ soul, _ cold and warm and far too powerful—far too smoldering than any pair of eyes ought to be. Like fire, only it was the heat that came with ice—frostbite. Her insides set to icy flame, the burn simultaneously warming and freezing—torturous and pleasurable. Was this what love was supposed to be? Warm and wonderful and burning and painful? Was she alone in this? Was she supposed to be in pain? Was she supposed to feel happiness in every movement?)

Ruby was… positively clueless.

Which okay, it wasn’t like she’d ever _ been _ in love before—so she’s allowed a little leeway right? 

(She _was_, was allowed a bit of wiggling room to grow and see and _ feel_—to know what this type of love tasted like till it was always at the back of her mouth, till it was at the tip of her tongue... _ always._) 

But, it wasn’t enough. 

It was too soon.

They’d just finished a war. Just been pushed to the front lines—just felt the thrum of battle, the heat that came with spilled blood so red, the cold feeling that came with facing people and seeing _ monsters. _ They were partners… they should have been able to see each other and _ know_—should have been able to sync wavelengths with a single glance, a sound, a _ feeling_—they should have been…! they should have been-! 

It just gets her riled up, thinking about things that _should_ have happened and things that _shouldn’t_ have.

It makes her… sad. 

(She doesn’t like feeling sad.)

But, anyway, she fell in love—and it was different than everyone around her, because it was quiet in such a way that nobody could have ever heard it. 

(But in the end, someone did.)

(The same someone who approached her after she broke things off with Weiss.)

“Why did you end things with her?” She was asked, the woman fiddled with her muffler, covering the disapproving pouty pale mouth with her distinct scratchy looking crimson scarf.

“Why do you want to know?” Ruby had shot back.

She doesn’t remember the days after leaving Weiss too well, the memories muddled by sadness and resignation, but she does remember this one conversation well. Ruby had been held up in her workshop (it was a garage) for at least two days, trying to get her mind off of things by tinkering with an endless amount of unfinished progress. It got to the point where her hands were permanently stained with grime and grease, goggles indenting marks around her eyes that took _ hours _ to go away.

But that’s where _ she _ found Ruby, that’s where she cornered her. 

“I gave you my approval.” There was a crease to her brow, smoothed over after a minute. “I wanted _ more _ for my daughter… more than heartbreak and a life of servitude to a company that would leech her soul from her—that would turn her into a husk by twenty-five.”

Ruby had said nothing.

“So you see, I gave you my _ approval._” Willow Schnee spat the word _ ‘approval’ _ like it meant something more than it seemed. “I gave you my _ daughter._” 

“She was never yours to give.” Ruby had said back, taking pause from her work to look up at the woman in front of her. “She isn’t a thing to _have_.”

Willow stared for a moment, narrowing her eyes slightly as she watched her. “Oh.” She murmured, “Of course.” She’d shaken her head, the remnants of laughter leaving faint imprints on her tired face, “You still love her, _ of course._” She spat the words like venom, an accusation dripping from her pale mouth like blood. 

Ruby had said nothing, resolved—even if it meant she was making a mistake. 

“Stupid.” Willow had said, “I’d like to say I didn’t expect it, but then that would make me a liar.” She sighed. “You reminded me of my father… don’t you know? I’m sure Weiss saw it too, though now… _ now _ I know.” 

There was something about the way she spoke, cryptic and tired. There was something about it, something so familiar and desperate and—_oh. _

(It was Weiss.)

(It was her the very last time she’d seen her.)

(It was Weiss. Not daring to cry in front of her, the fear and sadness heavy on both of their hearts—though she dared not show Ruby the pain that had been wrought upon her, for fear of something that neither could quite put their finger on.)

Willow left after that, leaving Ruby with nothing but the already fractured memories she’d had of the woman she loved. 

(So why did Ruby Rose break up with Weiss Schnee?)

(Why, because she _ loved _ her of course.)

...but that isn’t it at _ all_.

She broke up with her because something had changed inside of them during the course of the war, because sometimes it felt like they didn’t know each other, because sometimes it felt too loaded and uncomfortable, because Ruby was afraid she’d ruin something—because Ruby Rose loved Weiss Schnee quietly, because they need to heal together not fight, because of a million little things that changed and stayed the same, because despite knowing that pain would only follow Ruby knew in her gut that it was the _ right _ thing to do.

(Because Ruby allowed herself to be consumed in a horrid cycle of codependency she wasn’t _ comfortable _ with.)

There was something about war that changed things, altered everything that one thought they knew, and something about war that violently challenged the thought process, the mind. It was enough to change the kindest of souls, enough to destroy the cruelest of them. 

She remembered, of course, though she wished sometimes that she didn’t. It came to her in dreams, in moments of calm and quiet, in moments of darkness. They came in flashes, like the reverberation of a speaker or the flickering of lights—constant and seemingly endless. Sometimes Ruby woke in the dark, mouthing names that didn’t exist anymore, the words ‘wait’ or ‘help’ or ‘stop’ on the tip of her tongue. There was no end to them, no break or moment to rest, they were quick and loud—the dreams—they stayed with her even in the wakeful hours of day, even when genuine happiness seeped from her mouth and lungs. 

Every once and a great while though, she’d dream of Weiss. 

(Who she loved, who she cherished, who she left.)

There was something to be said about every time she’d dream of her. It wasn’t often, and it wasn’t always pleasant, but Ruby found herself weeping tears of thankfulness that she’d managed to see Weiss Schnee in one way or another, even if it was them arguing or stiff and standing in times of loss. 

The days were different when she dreamed of her. 

She’d see white hair—stark and distinct—out of the corner of her eye everywhere she went, when she’d close them to stop herself or look away so she wouldn’t see—in the reflection of a mirror, a puddle, a window, in the darkness that meant her eyes were closed—she’d see pale blue. Ruby would take a deep breath, and inhale a bit of the distinct scent of snow—lingering on everything that surrounded her. Sometimes she could even feel cold fingertips on her wrist, her face, her collarbones—her skin flaring in the presence of the ghost touches that burned their way inside of her—leaving invisible fingerprints ingrained into the white bone buried in the steel her muscles. 

The days were coated in longing, painted in the deepest of reds and blues, filtered in such a way that Ruby often felt that she’d been thrown into a different universe—dark and dank and so _ endlessly _ sad. 

She’d considered it, of course, going to Weiss and saying that she was sorry, saying that she’d made a mistake, but she never could—no matter how tough it was for her. Because even if she was sorry, even though she loved Weiss dearly… she didn’t think it was a mistake to want time apart. (What was a mistake, however, was that she had let Weiss believe that Ruby had meant forever—a life without even the barest imprints of each other. She’d wanted them to still be near each other… she’d _wanted_. It was endless and terrifying, that overwhelming wanting, so she had turned away.)

But that had been a mistake onto itself.

Once, Ruby had spoken to Willow Schnee just after she’d asked Weiss to leave. 

Once, Willow had left as soon as she could, and though she dared not be hypocritical enough to _ not _ comfort her daughter—she was still her, still _ Willow_—an alcoholic and depressed enough not to care much for anyone at all. 

Once, two years afterward, Ruby had spoken to Willow Schnee just one more time. 

“You gave me your blessing, once.” Ruby had started, leaning idly on the archway, ignoring the way the white roses pressed into her cape and brushed against her cheeks from their positions curling on the weak garden walls. 

Willow hummed, swirling a deep red liquid in a pristine wine glass. Ruby’s eyes immediately zeroed in on it, and not for the first time she was reminded of what her uncle used to be, before he made himself better. Nothing was said for a moment, and Ruby found a steady wave of impatience wash over her. 

“Despite the… _ turmoil _ you bring upon this house, it is nice to see you again, Ruby Rose.” Willow greeted, completely ignoring the first thing she’d said. (Something that made her have to fight to roll her eyes, leave it to Willow not to bother with some of the things she'd have to say.)

“Really?” Ruby couldn’t stop herself from asking, a little incredulous. 

Willow watched her for a moment, absentmindedly adjusting her red scarf, “Really.” She sipped her wine, looking away for a moment to close her eyes and breathe. “You’re _ different _ from the people my daughter usually allows into the manner, a breath of fresh air… I suppose.” 

“And that’s a good thing?” Ruby frowned. It sounded like a good thing.

“Sometimes.” Willow said with a shrug. 

“Oh.” Ruby brightened up a little. “Cool.”

The older woman didn’t bother to hide the roll of her eyes. “You’re awfully excitable for a _ guest _ in my house, was there something you wanted?” She noticed that Willow didn’t use the word _ ‘home.’ _

Ruby chewed on the inside of her cheek, thinking.

Willow raised a brow. “That’s an awfully bad habit you know.”

“Thinking?” She blinked, “I guess.”

Willow snorted. “I meant chewing on your cheek, my father had the habit too, when he was caught in the snares of a particularly nasty issue.” She sipped her wine. “Suffice to say, he did it all the time.”

Ruby didn’t know if she was supposed to laugh or not. 

“What do you desire, Ruby Rose?” Willow asked after a sigh, eyeing her over the rim of her glass. “Other than my daughter, of course.”

She choked, nearly slipping off the archway. 

“Did you _ honestly _ think you were being discreet?” She mocked with a scoff, voice somehow soft and sharp at the same time. “There’s only so much lingering you can do before it becomes a bit _ pathetic_.” 

“Mean!” Ruby exclaimed, a little shocked. She understood that Willow could be, for lack of better terms, a bit of an _asshole_—but it _ seemed _ like they’d been having a half-civil conversation. 

“Quite.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t suppose you’re here because you’ve realized what a bumbling buffoon you’ve been?” She gestured to the flower beds around her. “It’s alright, the Chrysanthemums won’t judge you… _much_.” 

“You’re drunk.” Ruby noted absentmindedly, her eyes finding the yellow plants that Willow had brought attention to, and found herself unconsciously shivering.

_ Neglected love. _

“Not as much as usual.” Willow admitted with a shrug, sipping her wine once more. “Not as much as I _ could _ be.”

“That doesn't really sound like it's an improvement.” Ruby pointed out as goodnaturedly as she could.

“I suppose not.” Willow relented, tilting her head a moment, a tiny curl of hair drifted into her face. “Now, genuinely, was there something you wanted? Or are you just going to stand there as I insult you?”

Ruby closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head against the garden wall. “You gave me your blessing, once.” 

“Is that it?” Willow asked, her voice softer than it was before. 

She looked up, watching as the older woman idly tapped her fingers on the rim of her glass. She was… a vision. Not the good kind. It was like seeing something you weren’t meant to, talking to someone and somehow learning that they weren’t meant to be like this, living, breathing—_human. _ There was a hardness to Willow Schnee, her skin soft and warm but looking as hard as marble—as though an anguished statue blinked it’s stone eyes one day and started moving. Ruby found herself wondering why she was seeing her like _ that,_ why the sour atmosphere settled on her shoulders like her cape—easy to slip on, the movements as natural as breathing. 

Was it perhaps the Chrysanthemums? Their soft yellow petals contrasting against the stark _ whiteness _ that was Willow, the harsh blinding light of the sun reflected from flakes of snow. Was it the scarf? The redness gentle somehow, harshly wrapped around her throat despite the warmth that it brought to her—serene and tender even though Willow was distinctly _ not? _

There are times in a person's life, where there is a moment, an obvious sense of _otherness_ that layers itself over their eyes—where the sharp sense of _ ‘this thing, this person, this place, this can’t possibly be real’ _and somehow it is. It can be divinity incarnate, holy and good—but not all godliness is easy to see. In that moment, that very second—Willow Schnee puts down her wine glass, gazes out to look through the branches and hedges and flowers to meet a slow gurgling fountain of water—that Ruby Rose knows that her wanting is a hopeless one, and endless one. 

(She realizes she is not alone in the wanting of impossible things—and somehow it only makes her feel _ worse._) 

“I love your daughter.” Ruby whispered into the chill air, “I love her more than I can ever hope to love anything at all.”

Willow looks at her, eyes sharp despite the bruises under her eyes that are a constant of the universe at this point. The words come out in a hiss, another language that Ruby would never understand—but the emotion that bubbles up inside of Willow, spilling over and coating the table is something she could _ never _ not recognize. 

“You _ love _ her?” She snarls, an accusation. “Than go and _ prove _ it.”

(There is something in her tone, her words, something full of _ sorrow _ and _ hate _ and _ hope _ that makes the air in her lungs disappear.)

“_Go_, Ruby Rose.” Willow’s face is contorted in anger. “Go and tell my daughter the truth, or never dare to even _ think _ about coming near me or my _ family _ ever again.”

* * *

Pyrrha wanted a winter wedding. 

“It’s just good luck.” She’d said with a shrug, “I like to think that even though we don’t have to be fighting an immortal woman with weird powers and origins anymore, we still could use a bit of positive karma every now and then.”

This, of course, meant that they had to wait a long summer and fall until Jaune and Pyrrha could actually get married. It wasn’t necessarily a problem for Weiss, it gave her ample time to plan and prepare herself for the emotionally straining ordeal that was singing in front of a plethora of people. (Especially considering the song that was chosen was… tied to distinctly unpleasant and very personal memories.) When she’d told Pyrrha this, her intent to thank her for the time she was taking—a suddenly guilt struck Pyrrha Nikos had immediately come up with another plan. 

(When Weiss had refused to allow Pyrrha to change the song that she'd decided—it was _her_ wedding after all, it didn't seem right to allow Pyrrha not have her song—they came up with a compromise.)

Technically, Weiss sang two songs at Pyrrha and Jaune’s wedding. The first one she sings in front of a seemingly endless sea of people, friends and extended family of the couple who Weiss doesn’t even _ bother _ to try and talk to. Though she can’t quite help herself pinching little Adrian’s cheeks despite his high pitched grumbling that he’s, ‘five years old now auntie, let it _ go._’ And she can’t quite help saying hello to Saphron and Terra Cotta-Arc or Pyrrha’s mother.

She was, however, pleased when told to steer clear of a couple of Pyrrha’s uncles—if only because it gave her a completely valid excuse not to try and talk to anybody.

“They _ aren’t _ my uncles, they’re just old friends of my father’s.” She’d sighed, the protest on her lips sounding like one that had been repeated of the course of many years. “Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with them, we just aren’t exactly _close_.”

“Really Weiss, it’s easier to avoid them, Agamemnon over there is an asshole.” Jaune had whispered to her when Pyrrha hurried off to greet them.

She’d nodded, giving him a covert high-five, and rushed off to save Neptune from getting into a fight with a very tall, burly looking man. 

The thing about the ‘Arkos’ (ugh, how Weiss despised Jaune’s lackluster combination names) wedding, was that there would technically be two. The first one was filled to the brim with people Jaune and Pyrrha had been _ expected _to invite, or risk the wrath of distant family members they didn’t always remember the names of. The second one was to be smaller, more intimate. 

Singing is hard whether it’s personal or not. 

Weiss breathes, takes a moment to collect herself, and strides forward. She’s distantly aware of the click-clack of her heels on the stage, the hush that fills the room. It makes something warm and cold bubble up inside of her at the same time—something that she can’t help but find herself recoiling from, just a little bit. It makes her feel better—now as she draws the microphone closer to her lips—that she’d insisted on doing two different songs.

What comes out of her mouth doesn’t feel quite right at first. Soft and soothing, her voice drifted lazily out to the people around her, carefully drawing them closer to her warmth, covering them in a blanket of emotion—like a doting mother or considerate friend. The song she sings is a little different from the rest in so that it’s not explicitly about romantic love so much as the feeling that comes with knowing your way forward—in caring for something or someone so much that your ugly desperation mutates into an emotion or motivation so beautiful it makes goddesses weep tears of gold. 

(It doesn’t feel right because she’d prepared herself for the second event more than the first—because, just this once, _ real _ terror and gripped her by the throat, taking her windpipes and crushing them.) For a single heartbreaking moment she feels as though some malevolent deity had ripped her vocal cords from her body and used them to string a lyre. It feels as though they’re laughing as their eyes blaze with flames and their fingers strum on the instrument so delicately that for a moment, just a moment, it was far too easy to take their delight at her suffering as something much more tender. (But then that moment is over, and somehow she's back to what she was hearing before—a song so sickeningly sweet that only the most wicked of deities could ever sully her humanity with their holiness.)

_ Lyre_, they would cry and croon. _ I’m playing a liar. _

Weiss could only choke on her hopelessness as they would laugh and laugh, gesturing to her and the instrument they hold as though comparing them to each other.

But this isn’t about _ her, _ not really—not anymore. So she should stop reflecting on herself in the midst of a song meant for people who’ve seen each other (_really _ seen each other) and decided that they’ve loved everything they’ve laid their eyes upon. 

And with that, something falls away from her eyes. 

_ (Here is a secret, a delightfully delicious little known fact: Weiss Schnee loves like she does everything else, effortlessly and quickly—she loves wrongly and intimately, obviously and loudly. Weiss Schnee loves like she’s lived her life, her selfless motivations and misplaced detachment—and somehow she will always find herself _ ** _hating_ ** _ while she _ ** _loves_**_.) _

Her breath escapes her lips in a moment, and it’s with great restraint that she does not allow her voice to crack over the sheer amount of weight that has distributed itself over her shoulders. She can see silver in the crowd, silver and gold and red _ and— _

_ (Here is a secret, a delightfully delicious little known fact: Weiss Schnee hates like she does everything else, she hates with passion and dignity—she hates with righteousness and detachment, subtly but well known. Weiss Schnee hates like she was born to, heart full of fiery disgust and instinctive actions—and somehow she will always find herself _ ** _loving_ ** _ while she _ ** _hates_**_.) _

Has the piano always sounded this way? Has the instruments around her always grated on her soul? Always bled her dry, bled her body until all that was left was a mismanaged mangled _ mess _ of a girl, with too much bone and not enough muscle to move. She can hear the soft drifting of the pianist’s fingers, can feel the pads of long and thin fingers brushing over the black and white keys, brushing against the slope of her neck and her collarbones and her _ jawline— _

_ (Here is a secret, a delightfully delicious little known fact: Weiss Schnee loves and hates effortlessly and passionately, loud and subtle is her heart—emotions so intertwined her most precious person may also be her most detested, and vice versa. Weiss Schnee loves and hates like how she was born, how she’s lived thus far. It’s how she’s learned to _ ** _move_**_, to _ ** _think_**_, to _ ** _speak_**_—she will never not _ ** _love_ ** _ and never not hate, and for the first time she can not find it in herself to _ ** _mind_**_.) _

The song ends, and Weiss finds herself terribly _ afraid_. 

_ (Here is a secret, a delightfully delicious little known fact: Weiss had written a song, had poured her heart and soul and fear into a melody that would’ve made the strongest of archangels weep in fear and sadness. She’d crafted music born of great suffering and love, had pushed and pushed and _ ** _ pushed_**_—until finally only the most deserving of notes were left for her to sing to, until every useless and terrible feeling was out of her body and into the air around her.) _

The song ends, and Weiss knows that the next time she opens her mouth to sing, it will be to spill her guts to all of her closest friends. 

* * *

“You did good.” Yang lightly punched her on the shoulder. “That song was a knockout, girl—and that’s not even the best one you have planned!”

Weiss rubbed her arm, glaring at her friend with a sour twist to her lips. “_How _ did you even know—”

“Oh don’t give me that.” Yang snorted, her grin growing impossibly wider somehow. “You wouldn’t let Pyrrha actually get married without singing her the song she _ actually _ wanted, you’re much too fond of her for that kind of _ chill_.” 

“You’re so _ cool _ when you’re ruining the surprise.” Weiss remarked dryly, voice thick with sarcasm. “_However _ did I go on without you?”

“You know, that’s getting kind of old.” Yang said seriously. “Pretending that you don’t genuinely like my company.” For a moment, it appeared she was not playing around, but then she winked. “You _ love _ me, c’mon Weiss-y, admit it.”

“I will _ not_.” She snapped shortly, leaning away from Yang and trying her best to busy herself in the apple pie that she had… _ liberated _ from Sun, who was seated beside her. 

“Don’t worry Yang, she’s like that with everyone.” Sun shot her a mischievous grin. “Especially after—”

A quick strike to the side of his ribs had Sun sputtering and wheezing on his words. 

“Don’t listen to this nitwit.” Weiss rolled her eyes, “All he’s good for is the occasional slice of pie.”

“I _knew_ you were using me for my superior dessert gathering skills.” Sun sighed lethargically, “I mean—I _ am _ the best when it comes to elbowing kids and old women out of the way to the snack table, so it’s not like I could blame her.”

“You’re stupid.” Weiss shot back.

“Idiots flock together.” Yang interjected goodnaturedly. 

Both Sun and Weiss shot her looks of mock hurt, though Weiss quickly turned back to the pie while Sun began rapidly talking again. 

“You’re here too, ya know! What does that say about you, huh? Saying idiots flock together while you keep our company, pshh. C’mon, back me up here Weiss!” 

Weiss hummed in agreement, too immersed in her food to really pay him any attention. 

“...and we’ve lost her.” Sun pouted, leaning into the palm of his hand. “I knew I should have kept the pie from her until she at least had another conversation or two… all that sacrifice, for nothing.”

“What sacrifice?” Yang asked dubiously. “From what I saw, all _ you _ did was shove some poor lady out of the way and grab a slice of apple pie.”

“You don’t understand—my integrity as the handsome and charming Sun Wukong is at stake here, if people see that Weiss would much rather pay attention to a slice of pie instead of _ me_, what would they think?”

“Probably that she has some common sense… or maybe that she's just a raging _ lesb—_”

It was Yang’s turn to get punched in the ribs. 

“I’d appreciate it if the two of you fucked off into the sunset now.” She mumbled darkly, taking a moment to shoot them a hostile glare, and then return to her pie. Honestly, just because Weiss enjoys a good dessert every once in a while does _ not _ mean she is incapable of paying attention to the area around her.

“She’s using her plebeian words!” Sun stage whispered excitedly. “You’ve pissed her off!”

“Can you even spell ‘plebeian,’ Wukong?” Yang teased.

“Oh-ho, we’ve got a real comedian over here.” Sun stuck out his tongue before replying. “All have you know that I _ can _ spell ‘plebeian’ and I’d really appreciate it if you treated me with the respect that I deserve—”

“Respect? Sun, dude, are you _ sure—_” 

Their bickering was cut off by Weiss’ melodramatic groan. 

“Yeah, fine.” Sun sighed. “C’mon Yang, let’s go be totally cool people away from this buzzkill.” 

“I can kill you.” Weiss lethargically reminded him as he hurried away, Yang in tow. She scoffed, sullenly turning back to her pie. At least now she can be left alone in _ peace. _

It’s almost time for her to return back to her hotel. She’s glad to be at the wedding, sure—but she dislikes being in Mistral any longer than she has to. When it came to the previous weddings she’s attended and the business trips that she’s usually forced to go on, she’s able to leave as soon as her work is done, she never has to linger in one place too often. Unfortunately, she couldn’t leave Mistral for a little while because Jaune and Pyrrha’s smaller ceremony was a good week and a half away. 

Weiss sighed, setting down her fork and burying her face in her hands. She was so tired… she just wanted to leave to be in a quiet room by herself with only the sound of an occasional piece of music to keep her company. 

Approaching footsteps interrupt her silent brooding. 

“Hey partner.” A familiar voice teased. “Everything alright?”

Weiss lethargically looked up through her fingers. “No.” She mumbled, voice muffled by the palms of her hands. 

Ruby’s gentle laughter sent a shock of warmth to her stomach. “You don’t look so good.” She slipped into the seat beside her

“Thanks.” Weiss rasped, lowering her fingers and leaning back into her chair. “Red and yellow aren’t my best colors.” She gestured to the suit that Pyrrha had practically forced her into, fiddling with the golden buttons.

“What? You’re clothes are fine.” Ruby protested, the light dusting of a faint blush on her cheeks. “I just… uh, I just meant that you looked kind of tired, is all.” She finished weakly, smiling sheepishly. 

Weiss hummed in agreement, pulling at the loose strands of her hair. “I’m probably going to leave soon.” 

“...um.” Ruby started, looking far too conflicted for Weiss’ exhausted brain to handle. “Before you go… could I trouble you for—er… a dance?” 

She blinked languidly, watching as Ruby began to turn an interesting shade of red. “Just one.” Weiss decided, voice gentle. “Then I’d really have to be going.” 

“You’re really tired, huh?” Ruby asked.

“Mhmm.” Weiss nodded, “That and there are far too many people in here for me to be even remotely comfortable.”

Ruby paused, considering. “Want to dance outside for a moment, then?” When Weiss raised an eyebrow, Ruby was quick to blush and explain. “They’re aren’t as many people there… you’d be more comfortable, I'm hoping?”

She considered her for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lips. Weiss could go out and join Ruby, if she wanted to—but she couldn’t quite distinguish whether or not she did or didn’t. In the end, she decided that it couldn’t hurt, after all—even if she did manage to worsen things with Ruby at least she wouldn’t be surrounded by people to see her do it. 

“Alright.” She nodded, “Where to?”

With those three words, she managed to find herself slow dancing with Ruby Rose in the face of the stars and shattered moon. 

Admittedly, it was a very… odd experience. She didn’t necessarily have a _ bad _ time dancing with Ruby, but things seemed _ loaded _ in a way Weiss couldn’t quite define. Perhaps the lingering touches were beginning to go to her head, or she was too tired out from the performance she’d given earlier, but the atmosphere was tender—warming Weiss in such a way she was sure by the end of it she’d have burns on all the places Ruby’s body had touched hers. 

“It’s been a little while.” Ruby murmured softly, swaying Weiss too and fro—to the beat of the music playing inside. 

There's a certain aesthetic that goes with what they're doing, dancing on the grounds outside a wedding venue while the muffled sound of romantic music plays in the background—the stars and moon shining down upon them and making their eyes seem naturally brighter. They dance, together or not at tall—in the face of old feelings and old tragedies—and Weiss tries not to let the atmosphere go to her head.

(Suffice to say, she fails really badly.)

She hummed in response, exhaustion and something else she’d rather not think of tying her tongue.

“So…” Ruby began, her tone light. “How have you been?”

Weiss couldn’t keep herself from snorting. 

Ruby flicked her shoulder, affronted. “I’m trying to make conversation, ya know? The least you could do is be a little more accommodating to my needs!”

“I’m tired.” Weiss protested softly. “I think I have a reasonable excuse not to trade pleasantries with anybody.”

“You’re so _ mean _ to me.” Ruby whined. “Whatever will I do without your kindness to tide me over the frozen facts of life?”

“I mean…” Weiss stifled a yawn, “You _ could _ die, I guess.”

“_Rude_!” Ruby scoffed playfully. She swayed Weiss a little slower, movements more gentle than before. “You’re getting tired, huh?”

“Yes.” Weiss agreed softly, her eyes drooping. “It’s a disgrace.” 

“A disgrace?” Ruby asked, amused. 

“Yes!” Weiss nodded solemnly, “I have a reputation to uphold, I can’t be seen falling asleep like some common—”

“If you say ‘plebeian’ I may just have to kill you.”

“—the point is I’m _ tired._” Weiss pursed her lips, doing her best to control the urge to pout. (She didn’t quite succeed.) “The least you can do is sympathize with my problems.”

Ruby pulled away for a moment, and Weiss realized distantly that one of her hands was splayed on top of her hip. “I can do you one better, if you like.” Ruby smiled, a bright, heartstopping, smile. “Let me take you back to where you’re staying?”

Weiss blinked for a moment, eyes widening a fraction. 

Ruby seemed to realize exactly what she said, and immediately a bright red flush rose to her cheeks. “I mean—”

“How bold.” Weiss began to tease softly, “Why, I didn’t know you had it in you—”

“—that’s _ not _ what I—” 

She sighed dramatically, “While this is not the first time I’ve been propositioned at a wedding—” 

“—please stop it.” Ruby squeaked, positively burning in embarrassment by now. 

Weiss laughed, not quite helping the way her shoulders began to shake in the wake of her mirth. Giggles escaped her mouth, lips pursing in an effort to regain some semblance of control over her emotions—but she found herself she didn't mind the fact that she had slipped in front of Ruby. Still, her head fell backward in the overwhelming amount of humor she’d somehow managed to find in this situation. 

Ruby had frozen once more, not daring to move—not that Weiss had really noticed, her amusement far too strong a sensation to pay much attention to the woman in front of her. 

How long had it been since she laughed like this in front of another person? Weiss was sad to say she didn’t know. Sure, she had plenty of laughter in her life from the people around her—but how long had it been since she’d lost herself? The last time she remembered had been when she’d found herself recovering from the disastrous mission that had led to her aura shattering in front of people she’d wished desperately to never know of her affliction. The only problem was that had been a year ago.

_ (“It’s nothing.” Ruby said. “It’s just that…” She looked hesitant, a rosy blush on her cheeks. “That’s the first time we’ve heard you laugh like that in years.”) _

Oh, how wonderful it was to find herself laughing—and like _ this, _ so free and full of expression that no one could say she hadn’t been enjoying herself.

Weiss hiccuped a little, realizing that the entire time she’d been succumbing to her own amusement that Ruby had simply stood there—watching with wide eyes. _ Ah. _ She realized, somewhat disappointed in herself. _ This must be strange for her, laughter doesn’t fit my current persona much at all. _

“Terribly sorry.” She apologized, wiping the happy tears from her eyes. “I’m a bit tired, please forgive me if my inhibitions have been seemingly tossed out the window.” 

Ruby blinked slowly, lashes fluttering. “It’s not a problem.” She mumbled, closing her eyes and tilting her face so she was looking down at her shoes.

Weiss took this moment to examine her. She was overcome by the desire to press her palm to the other woman’s cheek, to brush her thumb across her chin and lightly caress the beauty marks on her face. The realization came like a gunshot, sharp and fast and with a bang—and Weiss found herself desperate to say something to return things to normal, or at least escape this blasted place and return to her hotel. It had occurred to her that they hadn’t talked much since the last time team RBY was at the Schnee Manor. There was of course the occasional ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ but Weiss found herself slightly put out at the realization that they’d not communicated much at all since… since the garden.

Had she crossed some sort of line? If she had, she wished Ruby would just go out and tell her. At least that way things would be sorted far quicker, if a bit messier. 

But there was still a lingering apprehension that was beginning to build in Weiss’ shoulders. Since when had she allowed herself to be alright with Ruby’s presence in her life? Since when had she _ craved _ it?

_ (“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”) _

It lived inside her mind, between her teeth and under her tongue—the thought, the words, the carefully crafted amount of horror along with a truly scandalous abundance of love. The unfairness of it all stuck with Weiss more than anything else did. Why? Why did Ruby have to be so lovely? Why did she have to insist on being so charming? Why couldn’t she have just left this alone like everything else?

Ruby was still looking down, still desperate to avoid having to look Weiss in the eye, and all she could think in that moment was how wonderful it would be if they could just _talk_. It surged through her, that desire—that desperate, hopeless wanting—and nothing could seemingly control the burst of longing that made Weiss’ very being begin to _ ache. _

How long had it been? She wondered. How long since she’d wanted her so desperately nearby?

_ (“Ah.” Ruby blushed a little harder. “It sounds kind of stupid, when you put it like that.”) _

There must have been a defining moment, a statement or action that led to this realization—this… yearning. It had always been there, she knew, but how has it managed to overcome her? There must be an answer, there _ must _ be.

...And yet, she can’t quite find herself settling on one. 

It makes her go still in time with Ruby, and for a moment she thinks she may understand why the woman in front of her had frozen so easily in the face of her. Was it possible that Ruby, wonderful and lively Ruby, could feel the same as she did all those years ago? Was it possible that the way things ended had been a mistake, or that she was regretful?

_ (“Take this.” Ruby was there immediately, wrapping her cloak around Weiss’ shoulders.) _

Weiss twitches, her fingers brushing against broad shoulders. This can’t be happening, she thinks dimly, _ it can’t. _ There was no way that Ruby would ever care for her like that ever again—it simply _ wouldn’t _ make any sense if she did. All the signs she thought she saw, all the subtle hope—it had been a trick of the eye, surely. Things had been tinted in her perspective, her wanting had made things rose-colored, and she’d been seeing signs of a love that simply couldn’t be there. 

Weiss had nearly forgotten what it was like to have her vision skewed by such drivel. (The distinct feel of emotions such as fondness or desire.) 

So, where did that leave her exactly?

_ (“You’ll always be my partner.”) _

It wasn’t like Weiss hadn’t planned for this, it wasn’t like Weiss _ expected _ Ruby to… care for her. (But there had been a hope, a deep and endless vat of inky darkness that had whispered cruel words of falseness and reciprocated wanting.) She’d planned for this, she reminded herself, she knew that some time things would have to be put in perspective, even though it was one she didn’t like. 

What would she have even done if Ruby had loved her? It wasn’t like anything had changed for the better between them, surely they’d have no real future together—Ruby lived in warm and sunny Patch with her sister and Blake, Weiss lived in the cold desperate grip of Atlas with nothing but a company and drunk mother to her name. 

There would be no resolution to her feelings. There would be no happiness with Ruby, and it was high time she started realizing that.

_ (“Does she even know? That you wrote it for her, I mean.”) _

“Forgive me.” Weiss murmured through a yawn. “I’m rather exhausted.” She says it as though whispering the excuse will separate her from the turmoil that begins to settle in her chest, as though she wants Ruby to forgive her for everything Weiss may have done wrong. 

“It still isn’t a problem.” Ruby said back a gentle tease in her tone, though Weiss is disappointed to find that her eyes remain fixated on her shoes.

_ It’s time to pull back, now. _ A voice (that sounds like her mother and Madam Ginger and maybe even _ Winter_) in the back of her mind coos softly. _ It’s time to let go, now. _

A weary feeling tugs at her bones, and Weiss finds herself taking a gentle step backward. Her hands let go of where they were holding onto (of _ who _ they were holding onto) and allows herself to take a breath. It would do no good to not allow herself rest after this event has bled her dry of her will to move forward.

_ (“She leaves me full.”) _

“Weiss?”

“Yes, Ruby?”

“Are… are you alright?”

_ No. _ She realizes with a start. _ I’m not, I’m not and it feels so obvious now—how _ ** _not_ ** _ alright I am. _

“I’m… quite alright, do not fret.” Weiss said back, making her voice sound as soothing as possible. “Though I do believe it’s time for me to return to my temporary abode.”

_ (“It’s… dying.”) _

“Do you need help getting home?” Ruby asked softly, and this time she’s able to look up at her. There’s a peculiar expression on her face, one that Weiss is sure she recognizes somehow, but can’t quite place in her mind. 

“Ah.” Weiss smiled at her, a little indulgent. “I do not think that your team would appreciate that.” 

Ruby flinched in surprise, her eyes widening. “My… team…?” 

Weiss blinked. Perhaps that was too much distance too soon—she hadn’t referred to Blake and Yang as anything but ‘Blake and Yang’ so saying ‘your team’ may have been a bit… unexpected. It’s far too late to take the statement back, and though the tiniest bit of hurt on Ruby’s face is making it hard to concentrate, Weiss pushes forward. 

“Yes.” Weiss tilted her head, and can’t quite help herself from asking, “Are you alright?”

Ruby laughed, a little strained and a lot forced. “It’s just… I’ve forgotten that you technically aren’t on the team anymore.”

_ (“Thank you for showing me this, Weiss.”) _

_ Oops. _

“That doesn’t mean we aren’t friends.” Weiss responded, suddenly distressed. “You do know that, don’t you?” Despair filled her body. She’d not meant to go about reassuring Ruby of their friendship. Instead, she’d meant to create distance so that she’d have some time to resolve herself and her feelings. (It’s clear that she’s been far too impulsive in this case, and she will probably begin to suffer for it.) 

_ Well_. She decided. _ If I’ve already made a mistake I might as well go all the way. _

Weiss carefully placed a gentle hand on Ruby’s cheek, making it so that the other woman couldn’t look away. 

“You do know that, don’t you?” She repeated herself softly, movements tender. 

Ruby stared blankly for a moment, silver eyes flashing in the darkness. “I…” She shook her head. “Yes. I’m—er, sorry Weiss.” Her head tilted sheepishly, color rising to her face. “I was being dumb.”

“A little.” Weiss agreed teasingly. “Your lack of brain cells can be endearing sometimes.” 

Ruby pouted, leaning a little into Weiss’ hand—which had not moved from the spot it rested.

_ Oh dear, that’s not good._

They separate again, much like they had at the manor, without so much as talking about the distinctly romantic coded actions—and Weiss returns to her hotel with a heavy heart and an even heavier feeling of 'It's Over For Me, Isn't It?'

* * *

It’s her second song and she is dimly aware of the fact that she’s surrounded by only close friends. It does not help, if anything, that fact makes things so much _ worse. _ There is a degree of tenderness in the words that she sings that makes everything so hard to make sense of, hard to string together properly. Perhaps it is because she is about to sing for a long forgotten sense of sentimentality, or perhaps it is because Ruby sits and stares at her in such an intimate sense of _ wonder. _

Why had she agreed to _ this _ song? Why had she not fought to have her and _ this _ blasted piece of music left alone?

She feels herself shiver, feels herself go cold all over, and hopes to whatever divine being that may be out there that she has not frozen the stage. Luckily, or unluckily, she hasn’t ruined the start of her performance at all—the only sign of her discomfort the not noticeable amount of frost that coat the insides of her gloves. It makes it so she can’t feel her fingers, a sensation that makes her want to frown.

It’s cold. 

The chill sits in her stomach, slithering around in her body—making her fingers clench and belly ache. There’s a distinct throbbing that fills her, shaking her while she forces her teeth not to shatter. This song isn’t supposed to be overridden in frost. (No, no it’s _ supposed _ to be about love and harmony and the connection of two people forever no matter what happens.)

Weiss knows that if she lets herself get caught up in the implication of it all, of the fact that Ruby probably doesn’t love her anymore, the song will turn slip from bitter sweet to just bitter—the churning of an expired gallon of milk.

So she allows herself a moment to be indulgent.

This song she does not stand for, but sits—breathless and shaky—on the bench in front of a piano, her fingers moving across the keys despite the stiffness of her frozen gloves. She mouths the words before she begins, if only to make sure she wouldn’t forget what to sing. (It’s impossible for her not to remember, but she allows herself to whisper to herself for a moment—if only because she needs a moment to herself before she cracks open her chest to an unwitting audience.)

When she sings, everyone takes an intake of breath. She forces herself to pretend not to notice, to pretend that Blake and Sun’s faces aren’t that of a strained horror, to pretend that she doesn’t see Ruby hum along with the song—unaware, to pretend that she doesn’t notice Jaune and Pyrrha happily curled into each other. Weiss pretends, because that is what she’s _ good _ at. 

_ “Lyre.” _ Whispers a faceless god. _ “Liar.” _

So she pretends, she indulges herself, and Weiss Schnee is lost to the woes of ‘What Could Have Been’ and ‘Longer Than We Live’ and ‘You’re My Destiny.’ 

(Because this song was about Ruby after all, about Ruby and the people around them creating bonds that would latch on to the _ soul _ of each other. The bonds that would engrave themselves so deep inside of them no amount of tearing through their bodies would let loose their faith in one another, tattooing love and hope and desire so deep into their skin that the ink of their emotion scraped through the bone.)

There’s a burn that melts the ice that coats Weiss’ fingers, a burn that thrums in her veins, throbbing and aching and utterly _ destroying _ her. 

(She loves Ruby, and she wishes that it didn’t feel so much like a death sentence.)

The piano in front of her is lucky to still work, she thought bitterly. The piano in front of her has not yet frozen, has not yet had ice corrode it’s insides with its endless sting and chill, has not yet snapped and shattered in the face of the overwhelming _ pressure _ of the cold. 

(She loves Ruby, and she wishes she knew how to express that properly—wishes that it’d lasted long-long-long-_longer_.)

And so Weiss Schnee sings, her voice is soft and soothing and _ hurt_—bitter sweet. (Because even though the song was about bonds that lasted through anything, that stayed through death—there was a sense of resignation in the key strokes. A sense of _ ‘I Know This Will End Soon But I Love You So Much Please Stay—’_) 

The song ends a tad abruptly, but that was meant to happen. 

Weiss takes a breath, aware that the tiny puffs of breath escapes her mouth like fog.

_ My face is rather cold. _ Her thoughts relay distantly. _ I hope there’s some hot chocolate. _

When she manages to leave the stage, she’s aware of the fact that Sun practically leaps up from his seat, startling everyone. He meets her in the back, where not a single one of their friends can see them, and wraps her in a surprisingly gentle but still hasty hug. He doesn’t say anything, and Weiss finds that he doesn’t have to, she understands what he’s trying to do for her. 

Sun was one of the four people outside her family to know about that song, about what it meant to her and why she’d written it. (She’d told him and Neptune about it, one month after her father’s attack and two months after she’d stopped seeing Ruby. Her voice had been hushed, a whisper of itself as she told him quietly about it. Neither of them had ever actually heard it, but she’d let Sun read the lyrics, let Neptune examine the music notes.)

“Do you think Pyrrha liked it?” Weiss asked after a moment, slumping forward, voice muffled by the shoulder of his suit jacket. “I really did my best.”

“Why that one?” Sun asked, voice warbled. “Why now?”

“Pyrrha asked if I’d be okay with it.”

“And you told her you would be.” His voice is tired, his words a statement instead of a question.

Weiss tried for a laugh. “You know what she’s like, it’s impossible to say no to her.”

Sun pulled away, frowning. 

“Oh don’t give me that look.” She patted his cheek affectionately. “It was my decision, and I’d appreciate it if you gave me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You know,” Sun began, “I think Yang was onto something before.” 

Weiss raised an eyebrow.

“Idiots really _ do _ flock together.” 

Weiss released a lethargic sigh, rubbing at her eyes in agitation. “I’m too tired for this, Wukong.” As though her body wished to prove her point, she failed to bite back a yawn. “I think I’ll go take a nap now.” Not only had singing that emotionally challenging song taken a lot out of her, controlling the frost permanently fused with her aura was always exhausting—whether or not she did it on purpose. 

“A nap?” Sun pouted, “But the party’s barely started.”

Weiss shrugged, gesturing to small couch backstage. (The wedding venue was a fair bit smaller than the previous one, but there was still a tiny area for performers to rest or wait for their acts to start.) “I’ll go take a nap now.”

Sun sighed, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around her shoulders. “If that’s what you want…” He considered himself for a moment. “People are gonna be weird if I don’t go back out there… I kinda made a little bit of a scene.”

She waved him off easily. “If anyone asks I’m taking a break, I’m very tired.” 

“So tell them you aren’t busy at all, and that you’re totally energetic enough for multiple visitors?” Sun grinned.

“I’m not awake enough for your games, Wukong.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, leading her to the small couch that she’d decided to sleep on. “I can wait a little bit with you if you’d like, just until you fall asleep.”

“It’s alright.” She yawned, moving away from him so she could lay down. Her legs hung off the arm of the sofa, though she did her best to curl herself into a ball to make her seem smaller. “Go make sure they leave me alone.”

“Your wish is my command, Snow Empress.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, winking. “Sweet dreams.” And then he was gone, walking back the way he came after shooting her one last concerned look. 

Weiss allowed herself a moment to relax into the smooth leather cushions of the coach below her. She didn’t remember the last time she’d ever been this exhausted before. 

She drifted in and out of sleep for a little while, vaguely aware of someone checking up on her every so often. In her sleep addled mind, Weiss had decided it was either Sun or Neptune, and eventually reached out her hand to catch the arm of who ever had been periodically checking on her. Her grip was lax and her movements were slow, but she clearly somehow had managed to catch them by surprise. 

Weiss mumbled something unintelligible, tugging a little, but dropping her hand when it was clear they wouldn’t budge. She frowned a little, but tried to go back to sleep, heavy eye-lids already beginning to wear down on her once more.

The soft sound of endeared laughter filled her ears, and gently pulled her into her dreams, the sound of the suspiciously un-Sun and Neptune like giggling the last thing she heard before she fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagery baby... just... imagery... first update of the year tho how'd I do?
> 
> anyway, if it was not clear why exactly Ruby 'dumped' Weiss, here's the rundown (but not the entire rundown 'cause that's going into spoilers territory still and i got shit planned for the 'remembering' of when the break up actually happened):
> 
> things were way shitty after the war, and i mean like WAY shitty-- every single one of the members of our precious cast was traumatized in some way shape or form, with Weiss it has a little to do with the new scars on hands and face and that whole shit with her father (not even beginning to mention her problems with aura), and Ruby... well that's a little bit more spoiler territory. (but c'mon she's basically the main character of the actual show and she's got those killer silver eyes so u can probably guess it had something to do with Salem... that meanie.)
> 
> So basically everyone was in a bit of a bad way-- which led to arguments and codependency and a bit of unhealthy coping mechanisms we aren't going to get into... let me make it clear here though, both of our girls were at fault when it came to the faltering of their relationship, neither of them were really ready for it and they sort of fell into it like immediately after the war was over (aka pls don't blame one person over the other, they both fell short and their learning to better themselves... it's called character development bby don't @ me)
> 
> bby gurl Rubles (while she went about it in... not a good way... once again spoiler territory, tho if u can piece together what happened through the clues i scattered throughout the story as whole i'm very proud of you) was completely in the right to end things with Weiss when she realized that what they had had mutated into something she didn't want to be apart of--- and bby gurl Weiss-y is completely in the right keep some parts of herself to Herself-- u don't owe ur partner everything kids, but Weiss didn't know that, so she let herself get caught up in her own head and her relationship suffered for it
> 
> in conclusion, both girls need Therapy™ lmao that's obvious-- so, first things first, this story while one of the main themes is indeed romantic love, is also about learning to move forward and learning to accept the things around you without spiraling into a self-hating mess of a person and closing yourself off from your Very Important Emotions™ and rebuilding relationships even though you've both left each other behind
> 
> so, if u have any theories about wtf happened in the last stages of the whiterose relationship, wtf Jacques Schnee is up to still, or just generally want to scream about RWBY and a bunch of other fandoms with me, feel free to comment here or find me on tumblr @iwillwalk500miles 
> 
> k bye luv u n stuff


	9. if you're so clever, then why are you on your own?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There once was a girl, heartbroken and bitter—desperate to do something that felt important, who stumbled upon a place full of wonders, of plants and flowers and bushes and trees. There once was a girl, who spotted the rotten apples that sprung from her branches, who’d seen the sickness that continued to pervade the precious things around her. And so there once was a girl, desperate for all things good and kind, desperate to do something righteous and real—who loved and hated all the same, and who found that the man who’d claimed to be the one who brought her into the world wanted so desperately to snuff out the fire he claimed to light.
> 
> There once was a girl, who’d been threatened with burning spikes of ice. 
> 
> (There once was a woman who had reacted to that danger accordingly.)
> 
> or
> 
> Weiss Schnee had never been good at making promises to other people. There isn’t any reason for her to say otherwise, she’d grown up on the foundation of lies and miscommunications—of broken dreams and promises and everything in between. She’d bloomed under a deceitful hand—came into herself with all the grace of someone who’d never known the real world, who’d never known the horrors that followed her family name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnnnghhhhhh

The thing about the SDC is that it eats up so much of Weiss’ time that when she’s working it is impossible for her to think straight. There’s always a meeting, or a problem, or a protest, or a new product that needs to be approved—and with all her responsibilities for the company comes mountain loads of paperwork. She didn’t always mind the amount of forms and contracts and all sorts of other things she had to read and look over, it was always rewarding in some way. The feeling of getting something done was what drove her to finish the tedious tasks, but even then sometimes she just couldn’t find the energy to finish up.

It isn’t exactly a problem, per say, but well… things are getting pretty stressful. Especially considering the fact that immediately after the mortifying ordeal that was Pyrrha and Jaune’s wedding, she was pushed right into managing the annual Atlas Ball. If her hair wasn’t already white, she’d probably be looking for hair dye by now. 

The thing about the Atlas Ball is every year the citizens of Atlas (now including Mantle) choose a theme and one of the corporations or various rich people who volunteered to participate as a _ host. _ The SDC always enters, _ always_—there is no talk of backing out or not showing up, it is a constant. Which is fine, a representative from the company always goes to whoever has been chosen and donates to whatever the Atlas Council has seen fit to ask for money that year, so it’s usually _ fine. _

It isn’t this year.

Not only was the SDC chosen as the host for that year, but the damned council gave her less than a _ month _ to plan everything. There has to be entertainment, a company of caterers hired, staff increased, ice-sculptures made, and decorations to be arranged for. Not only that, no—Weiss has to host the damn thing, _ all night long! _

In the past, she might have found all the organization and the planning relaxing—but she was _ busy _ she didn’t have the time to entertain herself with putting an event together. If Weiss wasn’t sure her tear ducts had been sealed shut she may have broken down sobbing from the sheer _ thought _ of the stress that was about to be thrust upon her.

Not to mention the fact that the Atlas Ball is so very clearly a trap. 

Something can be said for the way her father plans his attacks. 

Actually, a lot of things can be said for the way her father plans his attacks. 

He makes them obvious—which used to strike her as strange, because usually when one attempts to attack another, it would be clever of them to do it in the least obvious way possible. Her father is many many things, clever—_unfortunately_—is one of them. Well, he isn’t _ that _ clever, because if he was half the businessman he claimed to be, he would have wizened up and removed his pieces from the chess board. 

He _ thought _ he was being clever when he wasn’t, _ thought _ that he was backing the right horse—that there would be no need to consider a backup plan when it was so _ very _ clear that the government was way out of its depth. (And to be fair, he was right about that part—the bureaucracy in Atlas before team RWBY’s grand and epic poem ended was terrible in just about every way possible.) He assumed, stupidly, that there would be no one else to fight back against him and the forces of darkness he’d allowed to further pervade his company. He had assumed _ incorrectly_.

It was almost funny—the way her father had decided to go about his business when he had everyone in Atlas and even Mantle under his thumb.

When they had been close, and she used the term ‘_close_’ loosely, he had been adamant on her knowing certain tactics and things. And by that she means the years that followed Winter running away he’d desperately needed an heir to show off so he’d quite viciously slammed any and all knowledge into _both_ of his remaining children. Both because he’d actually learned from Winter leaving and decided that if Weiss had begun to act up—which she had—he’d have Whitley continue where he had left off—which he had.

But, anyway, one thing that he had told her about a deal was to _ never _ assume that someone was getting something unless she could see it clear as day. (Either in evidence or some form of written contract that was so ironclad the other party could not go back on their word.)

So it’s funny, you know, that he just _ assumed _ Salem and her sidekicks would swoop in and take over everything. 

But she’s gotten hilariously off topic, the point is her father is _ very _ clever—kind of like a spitefully driven cockroach man—which was why these small acts of war and warning used to drive her absolutely _ insane. _She couldn’t even figure out how he was doing it at first, how he’d managed to manipulate his way to a scroll in his prison that wouldn’t immediately notify someone that Jacques Schnee was plotting something nefarious. It didn’t occur to her until the first couple of attacks had happened that her father’s aim hadn’t been to kill her exactly, he’d just wanted her attention so he could break out of prison. 

(And then he’d proceeded to break out of prison.) 

Weiss angry cried (except it wasn’t crying, more like dry heaving into a pillow) for a good hour. 

The worst part was that she’d been completely and entirely alone when it had happened. Her mother was still her mother, and Winter wanted nothing to do with their father or the company, and Whitley just didn’t want anything to do with _ Weiss. _ So she’d been facing her father alone, and continued that way for years.

Which is why, she supposed, it was so hard to let anyone else but _ her _ (and maybe her family) get back at her father for good. Which, now that she thought about it, probably wasn’t the best coping method in the world—but hey! She’d arrested her father once and she could do it again. (..._probably_.)

But this only meant that she would have to put her all into the Atlas Ball, to make sure that it was perfectly safe—and that if her father made the mistake of trying something, he’d be promptly shoved into some hole. 

And that’s how she ended up in a one-sided argument with Jaune Arc at four in the morning.

“Listen I just need you to do me this favor, got it?” She snapped into her scroll, leaning back into her chair and rubbing the tension out of her forehead. “Something suspicious is going on, and I need you to make sure everything turns out alright.”

“_Whoa_!” Jaune said, shock audible in his tone. “Alright—alright, no need to get angry at me, we’ll try to make it.” A pause. “I forgot how scary you could be sometimes.” He grumbled.

Weiss sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry, Jaune—it’s just that I need a team of huntsmen I trust to attend other than SSSN, and team CVFY is _busy_ and the Atlas Ball is a _huge_ event, and though I can usually count on Sun and Neptune to help out… well.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “They aren’t exactly the best at subterfuge.”

“Neither are we.” Jaune pointed out. “But you’re asking for our help anyway.”

She chewed on her lip, considering him for a moment. “I know.” She said finally. “But your team is excellent when it comes to defense, and I fear we’ll desperately need it. Sun and Neptune… they mean well, but if something goes wrong they’ll get it in their heads they have to fix the problem for me and rush off without much thought, and I’d like to avoid them… _ overreacting _ if at all possible.”

In summary, she was afraid that they would go after her father without telling her, and do something rash as a consequence. 

“So we’d be there to protect everyone if they leave? Or maybe to rein them in?” Jaune asked. “Not that I’m opposed to it or anything, but Pyrrha and I _ just _ got back from our honeymoon, and wouldn’t it be better if you…” He trailed off. 

“Please continue Jaune, if you have any ideas that might help me with this event then I would more than appreciate it.”

“Okay.” He said, and Weiss could imagine the hesitation probably painted on his face. 

She wondered why he was so reluctant to share his thoughts with her. They’d never been the best of friends, of course, but she had figured they’d been amicable enough with one another. Weiss pondered what it was she could have done to alienate him, worrying if she’d done something down the line that had made him hesitant to talk to her, until he actually spoke.

“Shouldn’t you invite your old team?” 

Ah. So he was afraid of mentioning them in front of her. That made her feel a little better, she’d been worried it was something she had done. 

“I…” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I have considered it,” She admitted, “but I… _well_.”

“Okay.” Jaune said, sounding understanding. “I think I get what’s wrong.”

“Do you?” Weiss asked, half amused half surprised. “And what would that be?”

“You’re scared of Ruby.” He spoke very gently. “You’re scared that something might happen at this ball that makes things different for the two of you—and you can’t decide whether or not you want to risk it.” 

“How curious.” Weiss began sweetly. “You simply must share how you’ve come to your conclusion. Perhaps you saw a path to the correct answer and fumbled so badly you’ve ended up at a place only the most dimwitted—”

“See this is why I was afraid of talking to you.” Jaune complained, though it was in good humor. “You _always_ end up making cracks at me.”

Weiss took a deep breath, he was right. _ She’d _ been the one to encourage him to talk to her, and she’d been the one who’d tried to verbally eviscerate him the second it appeared he may have been drawing some… _ correct _ conclusions. (Well, _ partially _ correct. Her old team was much better at offense than defense, and Weiss was planning on having her strategy be a guarded one.)

She couldn’t quite bring herself to disagree with his words. She _ was _ afraid of what would happen with Ruby, what would happen if their relationship worsened… or even improved. Weiss couldn’t help but find that she was terrified of the outcome of their story together. She couldn’t help but find she wanted to close her eyes and run away, wanted to pretend that Ruby Rose didn’t exist, and neither did Weiss’ _ feelings _ for her.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I just… I’m not used to talking about it.” 

“Well, I mean, _ that’s _ obvious.” Jaune stated, and the sound was filled with lighthearted laughter. “Jeez, Weiss. It’s almost like you’ve never talked about your feelings before.” He paused. “Wait, you've talked about your feelings before, right?”

“I have.” Weiss admitted reluctantly. “At… _ some _of the points in my life.”

“And _ that _ doesn’t sound healthy at all.” Jaune chastised through the call. “Weiss I know it’s not my place, but I think you’ve got to talk to someone about these things… or figure out a way to express yourself. Take it from me—your friendly neighborhood healer, _‘here to expand your aura when it can’t expand you’._” A brief silence, “I came up with that last part, catchy right?”

“I despise you.” 

“You’re not being very nice.” Jaune replied, sighing. "Pyrrha thought it was catchy."

“You’re right, though.” Weiss said, thoughts beginning to drift away. 

“That you’re mean?”

“That it isn’t your place to talk to me about those things.” She returned to her paperwork, staring at the lines of text for a moment. “But thank you, Jaune.” She said softly. “I _ do _ value your input.” 

He whistled sharply, making her wince slightly. “Thanks, Weiss! I think that’s one of the most validating things you’ve ever said to me!”

She cringed, that didn’t make her feel much better. “Right… well, you said you’d come, right?”

Jaune sucked on his teeth. “We’ll try and make it, but I really can’t guarantee anything, Ren and Nora are out on a partner mission right now and I don’t know if they’ll make it back in time.” He sighed. “And, uh, Weiss?”

“Yes?”

“It doesn’t hurt to talk about things once in a while.” Jaune’s voice was soft. “I know you have Sun and Neptune, but something tells me that you don’t really talk to them about your emotions, I think you’d rather just pretend you didn’t have any at all.” 

Well, he wasn’t _ wrong. _

“Thank you for the advice, Jaune.” She couldn’t help the slight coldness that crept into her tone of voice. “I’ll… contact them.” Her old team, she’d call them.

“They’ll say yes.” Jaune laughed. “Do you really think they could ever say no to you, now? After everything?”

“Oh.” She whispered. “Of that I have no doubt.” 

Weiss hung up before he could protest. She stared at her scroll for a second, debating whether or not she should just off herself now or later, before allowing her head to gently fall against her desk and groan into her paperwork.

She was so stressed. (Just _ so _ stressed.)

Two minutes of wondering whether or not she should just fall asleep face first into her paperwork, her scroll began to ring. A picture of Blake popped up on her screen, a request for a video call. 

Weiss, sighed—answering the call as she rubbed at her eyes. “Hello?”

“Whoa, you look like shit, Ice Queen.” Yang’s voice responded. 

Weiss didn’t even bother to retort, looking down at her scroll blankly. It would have been much nicer for her if Blake had _ actually _ been the one trying to contact her, having to talk to Yang while she was so stressed would probably be a mission and a half. 

“Hello, Yang.” She yawned into the palm of her hand. “Can I help you with something?”

“Um, yeah—you can catch some fucking z’s, babe.” On the tiny screen, her frown was very obvious. “Isn’t it, like, the middle of the night in Atlas right now?”

“It’s four a.m.” Weiss corrected her automatically. “So, you’re wrong.”

“Gee thanks, I’m really happy to find out you’re even more of a disaster than before.” Yang scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Jaune texted, said you had to speak with us, or whatever.” She frowned. “What were you doing talking to _ Vomit Boy _ at four in the morning?”

Weiss let out an unexpected bark of laughter. “I haven’t heard anyone call him _ Vomit Boy _ in years.” She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, doing her best to stop the ungodly urge to _ giggle_. “And I needed him to do me a favor, nothing nefarious.”

“Oh, nothing _ nefarious._” Yang mocked. “Well, that makes me feel _ so _ much better.”

“You’re being awfully sarcastic today.” Weiss noted wryly, picking up her scroll and slumping back into her chair. “What did I do to deserve such a sentiment?” 

“Ah, sorry, Ice Queen.” Yang let out a puff of air, “I’m just feeling a little stressed.” 

“Mhmm.” Weiss nodded, leaning her cheek into the hand not holding the scroll. “I should hold it against you just to make you do what I needed.”

“Ouchie.” Yang laughed. “Ice Weiss strikes again—I didn’t know you could resort to guilt tripping and blackmail.” 

“Haha, very funny. If you must know why, it’s genetic.” Weiss yawned through the palm of her hand. “I just wanted to ask if you three can make it to the Atlas Ball this year.”

Yang blinked. “Are you feeling okay, Weiss? It sounds like you just invited all of us to hang out with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was going to ask you if you could play security for a night.”

“That makes more sense.” Yang said solemnly, stroking her chin. “Remnant _ forbid _ Weiss Schnee try and relax or have fun—anything otherwise would mean the sun exploding.” 

“How I _missed_ you.” Weiss grunted. “Truly, who could _ ever _ compare to you? Comedy master and wit extraordinaire.” 

“Glad to hear it.” Yang preened, ignoring her sarcasm. Her face went serious after a second. “Why are you asking us to come? Not that we wouldn’t or anything, it’s just… well.” She ran a hand through her hair sheepishly. “In the past, you’ve never really been…” A sigh ripped from her mouth as she groaned. “I can’t put it into words, but the point is it feels kind of out of nowhere.”

“My father is planning something.” She stated simply. “I just wanted to make sure—”

“We’ll be there.” Yang’s reply was immediate, steady. 

“I can pay you all for your time—” 

“No need, Ice Queen.” Yang cut her off. “We just want to help you, and we will. I promise.”

There was something about the way she had said those words, the way that she had promised Weiss this small thing so easily. It shook her still, the fact that there were people around her who desired for her to be safe—who would be willing to walk into a blazing fire just to see that she’d make it out okay.

Weiss Schnee had never been good at making promises to other people. There isn’t any reason for her to say otherwise, she’d grown up on the foundation of lies and miscommunications—of broken dreams and promises and everything in between. She’d bloomed under a deceitful hand—came into herself with all the grace of someone who’d never known the real world, who’d never known the horrors that followed her family name. 

They sat in her palms like sand, slipping through her fingers easily—slipped through the cracks of her being like a broken hourglass swept into nothingness. It was strange, the way the oaths had crumbled to dust at her fingertips, the way that she’d never been able to fulfill what she had sworn—though not for lack of trying.

One thing she can say on the subject of promises, however, is the fact that she’s always been excellent at breaking them.

Remnant knows she’s always tried to keep a promise, even if she can’t help breaking them. 

“Thank you, Yang.” Weiss murmured drowsily, rubbing at her eyes again, “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Ice Queen.” Yang replied cheerily. “Now go get some rest, one of us will call you about the details until you get a full eight hours at least.” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Remnant knows you need your beauty sleep, Weiss.”

“I’ll kill you.” She said, voice cracked by a yawn. “When you least expect it, _boom_! You’re dead.”

“Yeah, okay you _ definitely _ need to go to bed.” Yang noted, raising her eyebrows. “Cracking jokes is _absolutely_ a sign that you’re gonna collapse.” She considered for a moment. "Or that you're being held at gunpoint. Quick, Weiss, tell another joke!"

“Shut up.” Weiss groaned, standing and wobbling towards the door. “I’m going to sleep now, so go away.”

“Awesome! Now—”

“Okay great. Bye, Yang!” Weiss ended the call, shuffling her way to her room. 

She threw herself into bed, barely taking the time to change into a nightgown, before falling asleep.

For the first time in a while, her dreams were _ astonishingly _ vivid. 

There was a chill, in her mind, a part of the soul that had splintered as Weiss did—growing or shrinking or freezing as its host did. And as she dreamed, so did that sliver—that portion of her soul that had been shaved off when her aura had gone haywire. 

First, it isn’t so bad. She’s in the presence of something beautiful, something that she somehow_ knows _ is simply marvelous. And though she cannot see just what, or who, it is—she can _ feel _ the warmth radiating from the being near her. It isn’t so much as a dream at this moment, more like a collection of feelings and memories all meshed into one big quilt of lovely patched memories. The edges of everything lined with silver and blue and red—a gentle hand on her shoulder, Weiss’ fingers intertwined in someone’s hair. 

It’s like a shockwave, at first—the good kind, the type that comes with overwhelmingly positive feelings—the type she hasn’t felt in a long, _ long _ time. Something brushes against her neck, her cheeks, her ears—and she can’t remember _ what _ it is or _ who _ it might be or _ why _ she’s feeling this way—because her eyes are closed, and she can physically see nothing. 

(But she can feel, she can feel something sharp and warm and soft and—_too much_ all over her, filling every crevice in her body, making everything _burn_ in a horrid sense of heat that’s been gone from her for years.)

And then, memories fade, and the scene changes. 

It is in _this_ dream, she had the distinct feeling that something was horribly wrong. 

There was a room, grand and spacious—accented in white and gold, and there was something in the center of it—an hourglass. It was imposing, looming over her and making her feel smaller than she already was. Hot and sandy wind swept the room, and though the foggy rational part of her brain that said this was a dream, the air cut into her cheeks and hands. The grains of sand stuck to certain parts of her face and hands, clung to an area on her stomach. 

It took Weiss a moment to realize the sand was covering up her scars. It was then, right as the grains of gold wiggled their way into the crevices of her skin, that she realized what was wrong. 

The hourglass was broken, the sand spilling out across the floor—invisible if not for the wind that swept them up and clung to her. 

_ “Don’t be afraid.” _ Something whispered, and it was a person, standing in front of the broken glass. They held a weapon, what looked like a cross between a sword and a sickle—a long stone blade that had a hook jutting out of it. 

Weiss didn’t understand how she knew, perhaps it was the obvious weapon in their hands, or the glass strewn out across the beings feet—intermingling with the sand, but she understood then, that this person had just shattered something very, _ very _ important.

And then she was awake, shooting upward in a cold sweat and gripping at her shoulders desperately. Her breaths were ragged and desperate things, it was as though the air that surrounded her refused to be sucked into her lungs—leaving her feeling ill. A chill had begun to creep up her spine, and it was then she realized that a fine layer of frost covered her bed sheets, slithering it’s way across her knuckles and up her arms. 

It was almost a surprise, she’d been getting better at managing her splintered aura.

Then, Weiss buried her head in her hands and started to _ think. _

Magic is a terrifying idea all on its own. There were moments in the past, moments that Weiss would really rather not think about, where she hungered to understand. That desire, that _ want _ to know just how exactly two _ gods _ had created a world _ before _ her own and may create one _ after _ it, consumed her. (Because they had been beings of magic, of pure undiluted mystery and power and if she only just had a _ little _ of them inside of her, if she only had the proper amount of ambition she could fight _ back, _ she could be _ useful—_) 

So she doesn’t like to dwell on those past instances. The idea that she’d desired that magic, that otherworldly power that made things like semblances pale in comparison to them—just makes her feel like her father. 

(And she knows how desperate he was to turn back the sands of time—to embody Kronos with a golden scythe and all—and she had been his Atlas for a time, his general even if she hadn’t realized it. And she knows that when she was wrenched from her spot beneath the sky, pushed into a pale shade of what she was supposed to be or what she wasn’t supposed to be—in the end her time as Atlas ended up with her called ‘Olympian’ while her brother pretended to steal the sky out from under her.)

So she knows how desperate her father was for any shred of power that might give him the upper hand, knows that he experimented and searched and did _ horrible _ things until he found something that could bring him what he needed. (And what he needed was the kind of special talent that lived with the maidens, that embodied itself in the old ones, the people who came before the moon was shattered. He just hadn’t known what he stumbled across until it was too late.)

There once was a girl, heartbroken and bitter—desperate to do something that felt important, who stumbled upon a place full of wonders, of plants and flowers and bushes and trees. There once was a girl, who spotted the rotten apples that sprung from her branches, who’d seen the sickness that continued to pervade the precious things around her. And so there once was a girl, desperate for all things good and kind, desperate to do something righteous and real—who loved and hated all the same, and who found that the man who’d claimed to be the one who brought her into the world wanted so desperately to snuff out the fire he claimed to light.

There once was a girl, who’d been threatened with burning spikes of ice. 

(There once was a woman who had reacted to that danger accordingly.) 

_ “Are you ever going to say what happened to you?” _

She would try. She would—she’d make an oath to herself, a promise that she wouldn’t break.

(After all, the only ones she’s managed to keep are the promises she’d made to herself.)

* * *

“Whoa, whoa—let me get this straight.” Ruby said over the video call. “Weiss is actually _ inviting _ us somewhere? Is this a joke? Are we being pranked?” She looked at Weiss through the phone, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “Are you punking me right now?”

She let out a deep frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No.” 

Maybe she _ shouldn’t _ have taken Jaune’s advice.

It was about noon in Atlas, meaning it was maybe eight or nine in the morning where they were. Though Weiss had managed to get a couple hours of sleep, she still looked bedraggled and stressed—though she had managed to find the time to shower and wear a semi-presentable outfit. (Though there were still dark bruises under her eyes, her skin was still a sickly pale, and she hadn’t bothered to put her hair up.) 

Her old team was sitting in a warmly decorated living room, one Weiss recognized. They were all dressed in casual clothing, Ruby being the only one still in pajamas, and were arranged in order from Ruby, to Blake, and then to Yang. It made Weiss feel hesitant in a way she hadn’t in a while—they looked so homely, the very sight of them sitting together, close enough to show comfort and familiarity, was enough of an intimate picture to set her teeth on edge. 

“Look.” She mumbled, trying to ignore the heaviness of her eyelids. “I just need to know if you can help out, if not—that’s fine.”

By fine, she meant, _ ‘If you say no I will personally destroy all you love.’ _

...Maybe that was a bit too extreme, it was more like _'if you say no I will most certainly cry.'_ The point was that she was counting on her old team being able to make it. 

“Of course we’ll help—” 

“Wait.” Yang interrupted her sister, frowning, “It’s only noon in Atlas.”

“And?” Weiss mirrored her expression. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“I told you to get a full eight hours!” Yang protested, looking very disapproving. “You’ve been up for an hour already _ at least, _ and if my math is right that means you only got six or seven hours of sleep!”

Her left eye twitched, in truth she’d only gotten about four. “I assure you, I’ve survived worse than lack of _ sleep._”

“You aren’t even protesting!” Yang groaned. “Remnant, Ice Queen, you have _ got _ to start taking better care of yourself.”

“I’m very busy this month.” Weiss’ brows furrowed. “Running the company alone is becoming a little more taxing than I had previously anticipated.”

“I thought your brother was helping you.” Blake interjected, her expression calm—though there was a distinct sense of worry on her face. “Didn’t you say he was?”

“Whitley…” Weiss grit her teeth, she couldn’t find it in herself to involve her brother in the affairs of the SDC any longer, not if he couldn’t handle it without panicking. “He doesn’t need to be here, I’m taking care of it.” 

“It doesn’t look like it.” Blake said sternly, but leaned back into the couch she sat in. 

She stifled a groan with the palm of her hand. “It’s… a family situation, alright? Just trust me when I assure you that there is no need to…” She grimaced, and hurried out the word, as though rushing would make it feel less distasteful in her mouth. “..._worry_.”

“You say that like it’ll stop us.” Blake and Yang chorus in unison, turning to give each other matching grins while Weiss and Ruby simultaneously groan.

“How troublesome.” Weiss rolled her eyes. “Do me a favor and worry quietly, will you? I already have Sun and Neptune on my back all the time.” She wrinkled her nose, and began to whine as though to impersonate them, “_‘Oh Weiss _ finish your food, _ oh Weiss _ you should get some sleep, _ oh Weiss _ maybe it isn’t a good idea to spend a week in Vale for a conference if someone keeps trying to kill you.’” 

Yang sucked on her teeth, opening her mouth and tilting her head. “That… that is _not_ helping your case at all, Ice Queen.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I expected.” Blake added, sighing and sounding disappointed. “She’s always had a bit of a casual regard for her own well being.” 

“Excuse you.” Weiss glared. “Just because I’m busy all the time doesn’t mean—”

“You definitely need a break.” Ruby interrupted, looking thoughtful. “Maybe take a vacation, visit the sea or something.” Her eyes met Weiss’ through the screen, the silver reflecting even in the grainy picture of the video call. “You deserve it, you know, to relax and take a breather and stuff.”

Weiss closed her eyes tiredly, rubbing her face gently. “I’m much too busy for that.” She mumbled. “The council has been seriously demanding as of late, and with all the trouble that comes with the Atlas Ball…” She grimaced. “There’s no time for frivolities, no matter how nice they seem.”

“Well.” Ruby said, pouting. “That totally sucks.”

Weiss snorted softly, unable to stop the small curve of her lips. “Quite.”

Yang and Blake exchanged an unreadable look. 

She felt her shoulders stiffen, she _ knew _ that look—it was the same one they’d use when they were communicating something that they didn’t want anything else to know. It wouldn’t have bothered her normally, the two often got lost in their wordless communicating, but it was rather obvious what had triggered their sudden need for a quiet conversation—Ruby and Weiss. It set her teeth on edge, and rather quickly every and all reason to _ not _ invite them to the ball came rushing forward.

They would _ know. _ There was no avoiding that—their discovery of what Weiss might… feel. That was, Weiss thought with a turning stomach, if they didn’t already. 

“Regardless,” She started carefully, suddenly aware of every waver in her voice, “I will ask once more, only this time you should know what you’re getting into.”

“Security detail, your shitty dad is making trouble for you again—blah blah blah.” Yang said with a dismissive wave of her prosthetic arm. “We got you, Weiss-y baby.” 

Lapsing into German, _ “Why do I put up with you? I’d be so much easier just to—” _

“Hey! Nobody can understand you if you talk like that.” Yang protested with a pout. 

“That was the point.” Weiss mumbled with a scowl. “Listen well, all of you—this isn’t going to be like the past attempts my father had made to stir things up—there will be no half-decent mercenaries and petty plots just to ruin my day—”

“You call a bunch of _assassination _attempts ‘petty plots just to ruin your day’?” Ruby asked incredulously. “I think you’ve gotten a little _ too _ used to it, Weiss.” 

“Well, yes.” She blinked. “I assumed that notion was obvious.” Weiss waved off her momentary confusion. “Anyhow, I still wished to warn you that my father seems to finally be taking this seriously, he’s a wanted man and he will never get this company back—but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other means to obtain power.” She stated grimly. “By using the Atlas Ball, he has an opportunity to show up a lot of _ very _politically powerful people, and a very good chance to make the masses fear him if he succeeds.”

“And you’re the one hosting it.” Blake said, putting the pieces together. “But that means—”

“Quite.” Weiss interrupted with a dark smile. “He needs me dead.” She tilted her head a little. “Or maybe something else, as long as it ejects me permanently out of the picture.”

“How is that different than before?” Ruby asked.

“Before he _ wanted _ her dead.” Blake explained quietly. “He wasn’t putting any real effort into it, throwing her an obstacle every once in a while just in case—but he had no expectation for her to die because of one.” 

“But now he _ needs _ her dead.” Yang added, solemn. “It’s probably his number one priority.” She looked at Weiss for a moment, her gaze assessing. “The only thing I don’t know is the exact purpose for… all that.”

Weiss bit her lower lip, considering. “His motivations are…” She grimaced, and for a moment she considered lying to them. It would be easy, all she had to say was that she didn’t know—that she was scared because the lack of knowledge, lack of conclusions drawn as to what her father wanted haunted her. 

But… but that would just be wrong, to lie to them this way—to not trust them with this. It would feel… _ wrong. _ Wrong in a way that Weiss had forgotten about, the sadness that lingered when you lied to the people that you loved. And oh, did she really love them enough to feel bad about deceiving them? Yes, the answer was a very big _ yes. _ (Which was another sentiment she forced herself to push deep, _ deep _ down.)

“It’s complicated.” She settled on, hedging her way forward. She didn’t _ want _ to lie, but she can’t just find it in herself to tell them the truth as though she doesn’t hold the secrets so close to her chest they’ve grown into her flesh, burrowed their way into her muscle, intermingled with her bones. 

“Complicated?” Ruby asked, incredulous.

“Yes.” She grimaced, hand going to her sternum—fingers pressing on the skin just over her heart. “Complicated.” Weiss sighed, “It wouldn’t do for me to keep it from you… but please excuse me if I cannot find the proper words to explain exactly what… what he wants.”

“Right.” Ruby nodded, seriously. “Take all the time you need.” 

Weiss resisted the urge to retort something rude. She sighed, what was the worst thing that could happen if she told them what happened? Neptune and Sun already knew, and they were one-hundred percent supportive of her… ailment. Not to mention they would be very proud of her for opening up about what happened with others, a thought that warmed her heart, every so slightly. What’s to say her old team wouldn’t feel the same way? Surely, they wouldn’t do anything uncouth… but could she face the pitying looks she would no doubt be given?

Well, it wasn’t like she had to tell them _ everything. _

“Some years ago, when I was finally beginning to make the company into my own, I stumbled upon an old file that listed many of the experiments that my father had funded.” She explained. “There were many of them that were… _ less _ than morally appropriate.” Weiss flexed her fingers, watching as the muscles in her hands strained against silk red gloves. “I found myself thoroughly disgusted with them, and I believed that they had no business being allowed to exist, that they should be destroyed, so I set off to do just that.”

“And?” Blake asked, eyes narrowing.

“One of his experiments still remains.” Weiss explained, “I could not rid the world of it no matter how hard I tried, so I did the next best thing.”

“You hid it.” Yang finished.

Weiss shot her a tired smile. “Precisely.”

“Where is it now?” Ruby asked slowly, with a look on her face that reminded Weiss of the times her old leader had been hesitant with trusting someone.

She tried to ignore the feeling like a punch to the stomach, sucking on the inside of her lips and sighing—forcing herself to look away. Unconsciously, her fingers pressed themselves to her sternum, pushing down on the skin there. “It’s in Atlas, obviously.” 

“_Where_, in Atlas, exactly?” Ruby asked with her eyes narrowed. 

“I cannot say.” Weiss replied, eyes snapping upward to look at her. “And it is not because of a lack of trust in you, it is because my paranoia is vast—and I do not believe that any word that comes out of my mouth _ doesn’t _ have outside ears.” 

“The walls have eyes.” Blake grimaced.

Yang sighed, throwing an arm around her girlfriend and groaning into her shoulder. “I thought we were done with the whole, _ ‘secret plot to end the world’ _ thing.”

“You were.” Weiss said. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same.”

“I know it’s a bit repetitive of me to say.” Ruby began. “But you never _ told _ us.”

She pursed her lips. “I never told you a lot of things.” She rubbed at the corner of her jaw. “Despite my… hesitance, the point is, I’m warning you that my father will pull no punches.” Her eyes sharpened, serious. “And neither will I.”

“Just tell us where you need us.” Ruby said softly, flicking a bit of dark hair out of her eyes. “We’ll be there.”

Weiss smiled, genuine. “Thank you.”

* * *

Despite herself, Weiss had truly despised any and all forms of parties. Sure, the planning that went into them wasn’t always a chore—she could find beauty in the organization that went into everything—but she could never find herself sitting back and simply _ enjoying _ them. Which, given her current situation, wasn’t all that much of a surprise. 

The event started as all events at the Schnee Manor did, guests hurrying into the grand ballroom—servants hurrying to greet them and take their bags and coats, leading them to the tables they were to sit until most of the other guests arrived. 

All three Schnee siblings watched the steady stream of people entering, similar looks of impassiveness painted on their faces. Weiss stood in the middle, Winter to her right and Whitley to her left. She’d told them what she expected to happen, but they’d decided to attend the ball anyway, a turn of events she was rather thankful for. Willow would have attended too, but Weiss knew that her father would not give up a chance to also hurt her mother, who couldn’t defend herself when ninety percent of her blood was actually wine.

“Here.” Weiss sighed, wordlessly handing them comm units. “Just in case.” 

“Ugh.” Whitley sighed, slipping his on. “How you huntsman get anything done with these dreadful little things in your ears I will never understand.”

“Don’t complain.” Winter chastised, adjusting her own. “Think of it this way, without one, if you’re cornered by some dreadful ruffian at least you will be able to call for help.”

“I can defend myself.” Whitley grouched.

“Not very well, I bet you could barely summon a spider you stepped on.”

“Summoning isn’t the only thing worth using to defend yourself—”

Weiss interrupted them with a sigh. “Please stop fighting, as the best looking sibling I’m ordering the two of you to stand down and behold my magnificence—”

“Oh that’s hardly—” 

“Oh dear.” Weiss mumbled, interrupting Whitley. “The Marigolds are here.”

“May isn’t so bad.” Winter said back. 

“It’s isn’t May I’m worried about.” Weiss replied, allowing herself to shoot a small look at Winter. “It’s that dimwitted cousin of hers, _ Henry_.”

“Ah, yes, Weiss—didn’t he propose to you once? A marriage alliance or something of the sort.” Whitley added playfully snide. “I believe you once called him, a ‘shitty version of—”

“_Whitley_.” Winter chastised. 

“Oh, honestly Winter, it’s not as though Weiss minds—she’s said much worse _in_ _front_ of him.”

Weiss smiled, sighing. “They remain some of my fondest memories.” 

Winter sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Be that as it may, we have a certain _ image _ to present, and if anyone overheard the ridiculous things that came out of your mouth, we’d have an _ incident _ on our hands.”

Whitley rolled his eyes, sighing as he fiddled with his deep red tie. “I do so enjoy these family gatherings. Tell me, Winter—now that May Marigold has arrived, no doubt in the company of her cohorts, will you go off in search of a certain Miss Robyn—” 

Weiss couldn’t quite hide her snicker when Winter flushed crimson. Her older sister then proceeded to swipe at both of her younger siblings, clipping the side of Whitley’s ear and slapping Weiss’ shoulder.

“Aiming high, Sister?” Weiss asked teasingly, rolling her hit shoulder for a moment, looking at Winter from the corner of her eye. “Councilwoman Robyn Hill is certainly a suitable match to someone of your stature—”

“That is _ enough._” Winter interjected. “I don’t know why the two of you bother to insist that—”

“You aren’t fooling anyone, Sister.” Whitley said softly, examining his nails. “Do yourself a favor and maybe admit to the repressed gay feelings you’ve so ardently begun to experiance.”

Weiss coughed into her gloves, trying desperately not to laugh. 

“As though either of you could talk.” Winter crossed her arms, ears flushed. “What’s that Oscar? Don’t you like the ranch I bought for you? It’s got all those newfangled commoner farming supplies I thought you’d enjoy—”

Whitley squawked.

“—Oh and Ruby, darling, didn’t you say that you liked that bakery? What do you _ mean _ that didn’t mean you wanted me to buy it?”

Weiss choked.

“At least I have _ some _ amount of tact.” Winter continued, shoulders straightening as she looked down upon her siblings. “The two of you just throw money at the people you like until they notice you.”

“Well, can you blame us?” Weiss asked haughtily. “We’ve got _ so _much of it to spare after all—what else could we possibly use it for?”

“Not to mention gifting money equals affection.” Whitley added sarcastically, “That’s what mother and father would do when we asked for things like _ hugs_.”

“Yes, yes—remember our birthdays?” Weiss asked with a snicker. “Oh, no darling, don’t do anything _ silly _ like want me around, you’ve already got so much! Here, have this case full of money—wait what do you _ mean _ you don't want to sing anymore, you have a responsibility! And don’t worry about your mother, a glass of wine isn’t worrying at _ all_.”

“Oh _ no _ , son, don’t expect to be anything worthwhile, you’ll have a company job, you will. And don’t think much of your sisters, the cowards, running off and leaving us _ alone_.” Whitley continued. “What’s that, son? You don’t _ want _ a company job? Why, don’t expect to be written into the will if _ that’s _ the case.”

Winter bit back a laugh, joining in. “Oh, Winter darling, don’t _ bother _ me with those silly dreams of yours, we all know you’ll inherit the company and breed like the little broodmare you are, and if you don’t well—at least we’ve got the _ spare, _ you know, your _ sister_.” 

All siblings went quiet momentarily, as though the words they’ve said had finally sunk into their minds.

And then, promptly, the three of them began to giggle uncontrollably.

“Um.” A voice that Weiss recognized as Blake interrupted. “You guys know the comms are on, right?”

They then went very, _ very _ still. 

“Damn.” Yang whistled. “No wonder Weiss is so fucked up, all _ three _ of you need a damn therapist.”

Weiss let out a choked sound of disapproval. 

“Um…” Oscar said, voice warbled from a bit of static. “Whitley?”

“Yes?” Her brother mumbled tersely. 

“Thank you for the ranch, you don’t have to buy me things you know… I uh, care about you either way.”

“You’ve told me.” Whitley sighed, though a smile began to rise onto his face. 

“Ugh_._” Weiss sneered. “You’re _ preening_.”

“Shut up!” Whitley blushed red. “You’re such a filthy _ hypocrite—_” 

“Oh now _ I’m _ the hypocrite, just because _ you _ act like a little school girl with a _ crush—_”

“Don’t call me that!”

“—oh darling, so demure and modest, smile at you _ once _ and lose any _ ounce _ of decorum, you really ought to—”

“Weiss.” Winter sighed. “Please stop talking.” She paused for a moment, considering. “Though I suppose you _do_ have a bit of a point, yes?”

“_Winter_!” Whitley protested, “You’re supposed to be on _ my _side.”

“I don’t take sides.” Winter said sternly. “It’s my job as the eldest sister to make sure that the two of you suffer _equally_.”

“Too late for that—”

“Well, that doesn’t make much of any sense—” 

“And Weiss, my beloved little sister, do try and be less hypocritical in the future.” Winter’s eyes sparkled. “I do believe you are one to talk when it comes to the, ah, what was it? ‘Smile at you once and lose any amount of decorum?’”

“You guys could do a reality show.” Yang interrupted. “Like, I’d pay to hear the shit that comes out of your stupid rich mouths sometimes.” 

“How crass.” Winter sniffed. “Do tone it down a bit, Miss Xiao Long, you _ are _ at a ball—a certain amount of decency is to be expected.”

“Yeah, yeah, cram it up your ass, Ice Queen—”

“_Yang_!” Ruby and Blake interrupted sternly.

Weiss stilled. She’d forgotten that Ruby could hear every word being said. 

“Well, if _ that _ didn’t answer how you were related to Qrow Branwen, I suppose nothing will.” Winter mumbled, before taking notice of the very odd look on her sister’s face. “Sister?”

“I do believe it’s time, now.” Weiss sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment. “How I do _ so _ despise this part.”

“You’ve been entertaining Atlesian nobles since you were twelve.” Whitley released a bored sigh, adjusting his cufflinks. “I don’t really see how _ this _ is any different.”

“Oh, younger boy child, how your words simply _ fill _ me with determination—” 

_ “I _ ** _told_ ** _ you to stop calling me that.” _Whitley grouched, slipping into another language. 

_“And I told _**_you_** _that hell would sooner freeze over.”_

“Children, please.” Winter sighed. “Honestly, I expected more than this senseless sniping—” 

“What was that Robyn?” Yang’s voice interrupted. “Oh yeah, Winter totally _ does _ look fuckable in that dress—” 

“I…” Winter went very still. “I think I need to lie down.” 

“Yang, stop antagonizing her.” Blake’s voice said over the comms, “You aren’t even actually _ talking _ to Robyn.”

“Sorry, baby.” Yang said, not sounding very sorry at all. 

“Winter, if Miss Hill truly ails you in such a way, you would not find me blaming you.” Weiss said solemnly. “I’d simply ask if you’d consider seeing a doctor, as your lungs acting up at the mere _ thought _ of her saying something so crass is enough to—” 

“That is enough.” Winter sighed, cheeks flushed terribly. “Please, Weiss, get on with it.”

“As you say.” Weiss nodded, shooting Whitley a sly grin. He smirked back, making a face when Winter wasn’t looking. 

Weiss walked down the top left of the grand staircase, making her way down to the middle—where she would speak into a microphone and welcome all the guests, and then release them out to do whatever it was they wished. She would then mingle for the rest of the night, entertaining the whims of careless nobles and dancing with handsy rich men until they said something stupid, in which case she would be well within her rights to leave them strung out to dry. 

Oh, how she _ despised _ politics. 

* * *

Hosting the ball was as terrible as it was fun. On one hand, Weiss got a moment out of her time to admire her hard work—to smile at the sculptures and grin at Madam Ginger as the older woman handed her a handful of gingerbread cookies and shot her a wink. On the other, she had to deal with the terribly pretentious ‘Atlas Elite.’ It wasn’t as though she was any better when it came to things like money and being rich she was sure, but at least _ she _ wasn’t a racist dimwit who looked down on the people less fortunate for her and despised them simply because she could.

Weiss’ left eye twitched. She _ really _ wanted to punch Henry Marigold in the face. 

She couldn’t though, as she was reluctantly convinced to share a dance with him. Weiss couldn’t exactly say no without looking bad or having a worthwhile excuse, but _ dust _ it was hard to even breathe in the same air as him without bursting a blood vessel. Why couldn’t the man take a hint? She’d thought the countless times she’d snubbed him had been enough for him to figure out that he _ really _ ought to watch his behavior around her. 

He smiled, cheesy and slimy and a thousand other synonyms for _ disgusting, _and opened his mouth once more—no doubt to say something that would make dismembering him a little morally easier.

“Can I cut in?” A voice interrupted them. 

She can’t say how relieved she was to see Jaune standing in front of them. Even if his suit was a bit… much.

Henry, nodded, sending Weiss a lecherous wink that made her have to hide a gag—before walking off somewhere. 

“Alright there, Weiss?” Jaune asked, placing his hand chastely on her waist and using the other to grab her gloved palm while leading her as far away from Henry as possible. “We all could hear what he was saying on the comms, and decided someone should interrupt—” He grinned, a little sheepish. “—I was the closest.”

“Thank you.” She said with a lethargic sigh. “He’s truly the human personification of slime—had you not intervened I fear I would have accidentally stabbed him with a wayward piece of my aura.” 

“Accidentally?” He asked, swallowing his laughter.

“Well.” She tilted her head back, winking. “That’s what I would tell all who asked.”

He couldn’t contain his giggles at that. “You don’t mind if I check on your aura, do you?”

“Feel free.”

Jaune tilted his head, and where their hands were joined she noticed a soft glow of white and blue reaching from their fingertips and beginning to intermingle. His mouth turned downward, his eyebrows scrunching up a little. “You really have to take better care of yourself.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, truly.”

He watched her for a moment, and though his focus was on her not a single of his steps faltered. “Weiss, can I ask you something?”

She fought the urge to frown. “Of course.”

He tilted his head, smacking his ear on his shoulder to turn off his comm. Befuddled, she did the same, though she used her hand—she liked to think she held some amount of class, after all. 

“So I noticed something.” He began, his eyes crinkling in something that looked like hesitance. “About you… and about Ruby.”

Her gaze flit to their joined hands, where their auras were still subtly blinking in and out of sight. “Must you?” Weiss asked with a sigh. “We were having such a nice dance.”

His lips twisted into a smile almost involuntarily. “C’mon, won’t you let me ask how you’re doing, just this once?”

“You aren’t asking how I’m doing.” Weiss pointed out, narrowing her eyes. “You’re saying you noticed something that you probably shouldn’t have.”

“I mean… yeah.” He admitted with a sheepish tilt of his head. “But… I mean, don’t you think you deserve to be happy? Just a little?”

“I am happy.” She lied.

“Muahahaha.” Jaune pretended to laugh evilly, jerking his chin to their joined hands. “Your aura just did a lil’ thing.”

Weiss’ shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t stop dancing with him. “You can tell when I’m lying?”

“Sort of.” Jaune raised his shoulders, sucking on his teeth. “Your aura’s a bit different from everyone else’s considering… just about everything.”

“How wonderful.” She sighed, she looked away from him, allowing her eyes to sweep across the room. “Regardless, though I may not be happy, I am… almost content with the things I have accomplished.”

“That’s not awesome.” Jaune frowned. “It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, you know, to let destiny run its course.”

“What does _ destiny _ have to do with anything?” She wrinkled her nose, allowing him to lead her down the dance floor, swishing and swirling as they moved around—the both of them momentarily allowing their gazes to sweep across the room. 

“It has to do with everything.” Jaune said softly, “Or at least it had a lot to do with me.”

“What do you want, Jaune?” Weiss asked tiredly.

“Ruby’s one of my best friends.” He told her very gently. “And so are you—and I think you both deserve to be told when you’re behaving like… er—dummies.” 

“Oh, Jaune—your vast vocabulary never fails to impress me.” 

He snorted. “So!” He grinned. “Don’t you want to tell her you love her already and get everything over with?”

She gripped his shoulder tightly, her silk red gloves digging into his white coat. “No, thank you. She dumped _ me, _ remember?” Weiss averted her gaze. “What would be the point in telling someone something they clearly don’t want to hear?”

“But—” He cut himself off, blowing air through his nose and puffing out his cheeks. He sighed, leading her further into the dance floor while he thought about what to say, his brows furrowed as he tried to articulate exactly what he was trying to get her to understand. “Weiss?”

“What, Jaune?”

“Do you believe in destiny?” He looked down at her now, blue eyes wide and intense and all together unrecognizable. “Do you believe that sometimes no matter what you do, you’ll always be fated to do certain things—to meet certain people?”

And Weiss wants so desperately to say no to him, wants to tell him that she doesn’t—wants to yell and scream and shove him away.

“I do.” She mumbled, and her words were very quiet. “I do.”

He grinned, triumphant. “And what do you think has been meant to happen in your life when it comes to Ruby, when it comes to happiness in general?”

She looked up at him, entirely serious. Weiss doesn’t quite know what he expects her to say, doesn’t know if he understands her enough to realize that no matter how hard he tries he can’t convince her to find herself allowing the walls to fall around her heart—that he cannot get her to tell Ruby how much she cares for her. 

“I believe that I was never meant to have them.” 

And the look on his face is something to behold, a mixture of shock and sadness and delayed understanding. “I see.” Then, Jaune smiled. “Well, you’ve never been the most observant person in the world.”

Weiss scowled. “Coming from you.”

A snort. “Looks like someone else is cutting in—excuse me.” He spun her away from him, a soft look in his eyes the last thing she saw before she was in another’s arms. 

“Whoa!” A voice cut through the air, “Are you alright, Weiss? I didn’t know Jaune would do that.” 

“Fine.” She managed, blinking. “Hello, Ruby.”

The grin she receives in response is blinding. Something warm stirs in her chest, extending throughout her body—flooding her veins like blood. It would be so easy, she thinks, so _ very _ easy to fall into a new pattern with Ruby—to allow the longing and fondness that plagues her to just be set _ free. _

“Care for a dance?” Ruby wiggles her eyebrows, looking far too silly for Weiss to take her seriously. 

“Well.” Weiss sighed, “I suppose if it gets me out of having to talk to people like Henry Marigold, I can’t decline.” 

Ruby snorted. “Yeah, he’s kinda… rude.” 

Weiss can’t really stop the laughter that begins to bubble up in her throat. “That’s one word for it.” She smiled up at her, and can’t quite stop her gaze from noticing the dress that Ruby was wearing. “You look nice.” One hand goes to her shoulder, the other gripping her old partner's palm as they begin to dance. 

“Ah!” Ruby looked sheepish. “Thanks… you look nice too.”

“Well, I know _ that_.” Weiss rolled her eyes a little, “Thank you, though.” 

Their rapport isn’t exactly awkward, but it’s charged by something that Weiss can’t exactly put her finger on. Perhaps it is the softness of Ruby’s hands—felt even through the soft fabric of Weiss’ gloves and suit. Perhaps it is the way that the red dress hugs the other woman so perfectly—dressing her in such a way that Weiss can’t help but see stars. (Or perhaps it is because Weiss loves her dearly, loves her so _ much _ and can’t help but find herself adoring the soft smile that tugs at Ruby’s lips even through the stilted atmosphere between them.)

“Sooo…” Ruby trails off. “Yang tells me you haven’t been sleeping?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Weiss lifts her chin haughtily. “I’ll have you know, your sister is a liar and a scoundrel.” 

Ruby snorted, her smile brightening. “Well, I know _ that—_I was just wondering if maybe she wasn’t playing a joke this time.” 

“I suppose that depends on your definition of a joke.” Weiss shot back, moving her chin so it rested on Ruby’s shoulder—making it easier for her eyes to sweep across the room. (It would be mortifying if they were the victims of an ambush all because Weiss couldn’t take her eyes off of her.)

“Well, I mean—I could always ask your brother and sister.” Ruby said, “I’m sure they would tell me the truth.”

Weiss had made a grievous error—in her attempt to keep an eye on the room around her, she’d positioned herself so that every word that Ruby spoke was directly into her ear. She grit her teeth, forcing the warmth that begin to bubble under her skin down down _ down_. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Weiss mumbled grumpily. “I get plenty of sleep, there is no need to go to them to make sure.” Not that they would know anything, Weiss did like to keep some parts of her life private. (Even if it was obvious to them when she was overworking herself.) Besides, it wasn’t like Whitley or Winter were in any position to chastise her, they were no better than her when it came to taking care of themselves.

Ruby hummed. “Did I mention you looked nice? ‘Cause you look nice.”

A flush began to rise on the back of her neck. “You mentioned it.” Desperately trying to shake the embarrassment that was beginning to build, Weiss decided to try and change the subject. “My comm is off, would you do me a favor and—”

Ruby’s hand went to her ear immediately, hand pressing against her jaw as her fingers moved to turn it on—only for Weiss to go very still. 

“I was only going to ask if you could move back so I could turn it back on.” Weiss mumbled, the words brushing against Ruby’s shoulder. 

“Oh!” Ruby jumped back a little, moving out of her way quickly. There was a very noticeable blush on her face, blood rushing to her cheeks and ears. “Right, of course—sorry.” 

Weiss blinked, suddenly feeling very cold. “It’s quite alright.” She tilted her head, looking around the room, “I do believe I’m going to take a break…” She trailed off, eyes crinkling in humor when she noticed something across the dance floor. 

Winter and Robyn were dancing.

She turned back to Ruby, unable to stop the small smile on her face. “Thank you for the dance.” And then she was gone, stepping past the other woman and moving to escape to the manor’s courtyard and take a couple minutes to breathe.

She stayed outside for longer than she intended. The cool wind brushed up against her cheeks, smoothing down her suit to her body and making her hair dance with the wind. Weiss’ breath visibly escaped her mouth, the warm puffs of air drawing her attention as they began to ascend upward—fading as they intermingled with the outside chill. 

She was exhausted. 

There was a part of Weiss that wished she could just stay in that moment for eternity, watching as her breath escaped from her lungs—feeling the cold sweep her up in it’s frozen arms. It didn’t seem like such a terrible existence, watching the way the proof of your life intermingled with the world in such a way. But she had much to do, and she feared the work required of her would never be done.

Weiss was interrupted by a soft cough. 

“We were getting a little worried.” Ruby said, looking a little sheepish—though her eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “I… um, came to check up on you.”

“Did you?” Weiss rubbed at her eyes, fighting back a yawn. “Thank you, but I’m alright.” 

It was quiet suddenly, the atmosphere loaded with an emotion that made her hair stand on end—that made warmth begin to pulse throughout her body. 

“Can we talk?” Ruby asked softly.

Weiss raised a lazy eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue. She wondered what it was that Ruby had wanted to converse with her about, what topic it was that was best brought up alone. 

“I used to think I didn’t know how to talk to you.” Ruby’s words had been so terribly sad, voice simply _ bleeding _ melancholy and yearning in such a way that Weiss’ heart constricted at the very sound. She closed her eyes, and something builds and builds and builds in the two of them. “I was always afraid to open my mouth and just say something—and I… I’m sorry for that.”

She remembers what Jaune had asked her, earlier that night. 

_ “Do you believe in destiny?” _

And she thinks, _ is it possible? _ Had all of this happened once before? With two people made of the same soul—with a bond made of the same experiences and loves and hates—had they met before _ this _ life? It fills her, those thoughts, drowns her an endless sea of _ what if? _ She could scarcely imagine, barely begin to picture what it would be like, if they had known each other before the other had existed, if they had come into this world two sides of the same coin—if they had been partners before they even knew what the word meant. 

She can’t believe that, can’t allow herself to think that it is possible their souls had been linked together from the very start, that they would always find each other one way or another. 

“My soul was forfeit from the moment I laid eyes upon you.” Weiss had whispered to her. “You need not ask for it now, just like you need not ask for it later—my soul has always been spoken for.” The words are quiet, soft and hesitant—as though the slightest brush or puff of air would send them scattering apart, falling into slivers of love and hope and loss—shattering like a mirror. 

How tragic. How tragic it must have been—how tragic it _ is_—for her to see Ruby and know that they would be near each other in one way or another for the rest of their lives. 

Ruby opened her mouth, her eyes reflecting a silvery shine—full of some emotion that Weiss couldn’t place.

And then a part of the manor was exploding. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weiss' dad is a big fat meanie, a big fat meanie zucchini. anyway, all of the schneeblings own me thank you. also, things are getting..... *gasp* romantic-- like, this is the second time they danced with each other, the first was in the last chapter.... i think i have thing for dances filled with unresolved romantic tension
> 
> i lomve u all so much, and that's on UwU bitch


	10. i love you so bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And she thinks, a question that reverberates in her mind, is it possible? She remembers her thoughts of souls, her quiet admission of the hopeless grasp in which Ruby held hers—always and forever. She remembers the fondness that had swirled inside of her with the realization that no matter what happened she would always allow Ruby to see her—to really see her—and to love Ruby even though Weiss had never been comfortable with anyone looking at her at all. 
> 
> And for a second, Weiss could have sworn that Ruby felt the same.
> 
> She grit her teeth, her head snapping upward and blue eyes shining with a determination that only came from burying everything—the type of fire that came with tunnel vision. She’d fix her manor, she’d fix her company, she’d fix the mistake that was her father breathing, and then she’d be alright—and then she would have succeeded. Weiss Schnee had no time for Ruby Rose, not like this not like she wanted, the last remnants of sand in that broken hourglass she’d dreamed of before had finally dwindled away—glass shards and the shine of a golden dagger the only things left.
> 
> or
> 
> It was different, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahahaha this was meant to mostly just a filler chapter that i used to practice action scenes on... it went on for longer than i had meant to....

She had a complicated relationship with plans. 

It wasn’t as though she didn’t _ know _ this, it wasn't though she hadn’t _ expected _ strange and unusual events to occur when she and her friends hatch plots and schemes—but if she was being quite honest, she hadn’t really expected much of anything to go _ this _ wrong. 

In retrospect, Blake Belladonna realized that this line of thinking was incredibly naive of her, but she couldn’t quite find that she could fault herself for hoping that the Atlas Ball would be fine, and something would finally go alright for Weiss. (Though, she was disappointed in the fact that she couldn’t look past the hopeful wanting that came with the event, and people were hurt because of it.) It wasn’t as though she _ wasn’t _ prepared for the inevitable moment that her evening went awry—but _ still_, she was caught off guard when the two large stands of armor began to topple over, and even more when the roof caved in a little as enemies jumped inside from the hole.

(She found out later that there had been discreet bombs placed on the backs of the knight’s ankles, blowing up twenty minutes after Weiss had left the ballroom to take a break. It seemed as though before he wanted to kill her, Jacques wanted to send her some type of message—which Blake found utterly idiotic, though she couldn’t really say she knew what went on in her friend’s fathers mind. She’d had enough time trying to make sense of the actions of abusers in the past, it just wasn’t worth deliberating about if it could be avoided.)

But for now, all she knew was that two very large suits of armor—that looked suspiciously like the knight that Weiss often summoned (Blake was sure that Weiss called it Arma Gigas, though Blake had copied Ruby and referred to it appropriately as Weiss Jr.) had begun to fall on top of all the squishy racist Atlesian aristocrats. There was a moment where Blake considered allowing the gigantic suits of armor to crush them, but quickly brushed off the thought and surged forward. She doubted some of them would be thankful that she, a faunus, had helped them—but she didn’t care much about what they thought, as long as they were safe.

Hurrying forward, she pulled her weapon from her bag—tossing it so the ribbon wrapped around the body of the falling armor and pulled. It was a bit straining on her arms, but she managed to yank it out of the way enough so it landed without crushing anyone. (She could not save the pristine marble flooring, though she didn’t mind that fact much, in Blake’s opinion Weiss really needed to remodel anyway.)

She heard a large crash, and her head shot up as she made eye contact with Winter Schnee across the ball room—who had summoned a geist and used it to possess the armor, one of the arms was still clutching desperately to the sword while the other was extended—propping up its new body so it did not crush anyone. 

Winter nodded toward her, and Blake found herself nodding back. 

When she had first met Weiss’ older sister, she hadn’t really known what to make of her. She had been younger, then—still attending Beacon and still having a deep aversion to anything that could have harmed her. Blake hadn’t trusted Winter—hadn’t trusted the way that she seemed content to follow the flawed authority of Atlas, as a moth to a flame. But Winter had long since been burned, and Blake could appreciate the fact that the military had taken a step back from its time led by General Ironwood—even if she still didn’t entirely trust it. 

(But that was probably because Blake didn’t trust _ most _ authority figures, which in her opinion was an entirely justified thing to do.)

Whitley ran past her, dragging Oscar behind him and making a beeline for his sister—Robyn Hill and Fiona Thyme following quickly. For a moment Blake could have sworn she heard Fiona yell out, “Winter’s so _ dead _ for not telling us about this!” But that may have been the pre-fight adrenaline that had begun to course through her veins.

She whirled around, scanning the room to make sure that no one had needed to be tended to—when loud bangs began to ricochet around the hall. Her head snapped up, and she hissed when she noticed that enemies were _ still _ streaming through the improvised skylight. 

Gun shots. Great.

Blake frowned, reading her weapon and tapped her comm, “Yang, where are you?”

_ “Near the entrance, baby.” _ Came the rushed response. _ “There are some really pissed off mercenaries who rushed the gates—” _ Another loud bang, _ “C’mon man!” _ Yang whined, _ “I liked those paintings, the Schnees looked so fucking hilarious!” _

“Heading toward you.” Blake said back, throwing her ribbon up to the chandelier and using it to swing forward and through the air—over the astonished and frightened looking Atlesians. “How many?”

A hiss. _ “Maybe… ten so far? Nothing we can’t handly, kitty cat.” _

“Your nicknames are still terrible.” She remarked with a subdued groan and flipped down to where she could see her partner fighting off an opponent in a hood, her hair easy to spot despite the chaos. Something soft made her heart throb when she noticed how easily Yang seemed to be taking on the overwhelming amount of enemies that swarmed her. 

“Hey, baby!” Yang cheered, extending her palm right as Blake threw her weapon—her partner swinging the ribbon and launching Blake at the person in the hood. “Did I mention your ass looks great in those—”

“Yang!” She chastised just as she knocked the hood down with a firm kick.

_ “Hey!” _ Jaune’s voice interrupted, partly warbled by static. _ “My team and I are herding everyone out of the hall, we’ll—” _ Some grunting, and the telltale sound of a weapon hitting the metal of his shield. _ “Gah! Go _ ** _away_**_!” _ A whoosh. _ “We’ll keep them off the civilians, do you what you have to do.” _

_ “Has anyone seen Weiss?” _ An accented voice Blake recognized as Scarlet questioned. _ “Neptune’s going positively spare—” _

_ “Scarlet behind you—!” _

And then more explosions. 

_ “They got the statue of the King Taijitu!” _ Sun complained over the comms. _ “That one was my favorite! Weiss is gonna be so pissed off that you assholes broke it!” _

_ “They got the King Taijitu?” _ Blake recognized the voice as Whitley’s. _ “Can you physically harm them for me?” _

_ “You got it, baby boy!” _ Neptune whooped.

_ “I despise you, if you ever talk to me again I _ ** _will_ ** _ make my sister end your pathetic excuse for a bloodline!” _

Yang snickered from beside her, and together the two of them continued on—fighting like they were meant to. Like most things, they worked together seamlessly—easily knowing what the other was going to do before they did it. It made Blake curious sometimes, how easily they read each other—how near perfect their partnership was—it made her think of silly things. Stories she had read in books and fairytales and even seen on television. Despite how ridiculous she felt thinking it, she would always find herself calling Yang her soulmate.

Which was… probably something she should share with her. 

It strikes her then, in the middle of the long battle—an old ring pulsing on top of her collarbones, hidden behind her dress shirt, that she very much wants to marry her partner.

But that was a dilemma to face another time. 

Blake didn’t know how long they were at it. Fighting people was always different than fighting Grimm—there was an element of reluctance that sometimes graced the movements of each party participating, as though they were afraid to do real damage. Blake knew that if she was simply facing the creatures of darkness, not a single second of hesitation would grace her weapons. 

But these _ weren’t _ Grimm. 

These were people. 

She shook off the nauseous feeling that tried to sneak up on her, scanning the area for anything that might be wrong. There had been much more than ten people when she’d arrived to help Yang, and she suspected there still was a great deal more.

Just then, a fist flew out towards her face. Blake leaped backward in an effort to avoid it, but was unable to dodge it completely as it clipped her ear. She winced, the blow not achieving anything but to surprise her—well that and to knock out her earpiece. Blake readied Gambol Shroud—examining her new opponent with narrowed eyes. 

It was clear from the moment she laid her eyes upon him that he was not like the men she’d fought previously. 

He glared, his face not obscured by any type of mask or hood. He was a slim man, tall with long limbs and burn climbing from his neck up to his chin, marring his freckled golden brown skin. He wore a ripped black suit, old and patched, tendrils of curly orange hair falling into his face from his loosely tied bun. He tensed, flicking his wrist and revealing dual flintlocks that turned into two short swords—his yellow eyes like a hawk, piercing and predatory. 

“You’re getting in my way.” He jeered, and his voice was much younger than she might have thought from the way bruises purpled his eyes.

“And _ you’re _ attacking innocent civilians.” She shot back just as Yang joined her—just finishing up a random henchmen. 

“The Atlesians are hardly _ innocent_.” He scoffed, his eyes flickering to her ears. She fought the urge to reach up and touch them. “I would have thought you’d known that already.”

“Do you even _ know _ who you’re working for?” Yang shot back incredulously. “It doesn’t get much worse than that guy, pal.” She turned to Blake, tossing her a look that said _ ‘can you actually believe this guy?’ _

Blake grimaced, and shrugged in response. There wasn’t much to say about the man’s hypocrisy, whether it was knowing or not.

“Right, well—” Yang looked back at him, discreetly fingering something in her hands, “—let’s blow the _roof_ off this place.” 

The man took that as his cue and jumped backward, his arms spread out wide. He soared gracefully through the air, looking at home as he leaped away from them. He was manipulating the wind around them—Blake realized it must have been his semblance. He did a flip, jerking his wrists out so that his swords reverted to chunky black and orange flintlocks—aiming them at the two of them and firing. 

Blake quickly deflected the bullets off of her, dodging the ones that glowed—as they were infused with dust—and threw her ribbon up to the (barely hanging) chandelier above her. She grimaced when she noticed the small shocks of ice and earth that had marred the once pristine hall, and jumped forward, swinging to avoid approaching head on while Yang took to the other side—both of them hoping to successfully flank him. 

It seemed as though he expected that, leaping forward and ducking in an attempt to make the partners collide into each other. Blake went high, easily rolling off of Yang’s shoulders with her back, and spun to face the man again—her brow furrowed in frustration. He was using the air around them to speed up his movements slightly, not enough for it to make much of a difference in real speed (not like Ruby) but enough to make it hard to land a solid hit on him. 

It was like he was stalling for something, which set her on edge.

Yang, as though she’d had the same thought, shot her a grimace. They nodded together, before surging forward again and again, clashing with air and dust—her clones trapping his fist in an earth rendering of her head—enough for Yang to land a solid punch to his stomach. 

He flew backward, trying to use his semblance—barely succeeding. His landing was ugly, none of that graceful ease he had earlier in the fight, and it became clear that he’d only just managed to land on his feet. 

It was still for a moment as all of them paused to take in their surroundings. 

Something in Blake’s chest squeezed when she noticed the subtle trace of fear on the young man’s face, and she did her best to push down the sympathy that instinctively rose. It wouldn’t do good to feel sorry for him, she reasoned with herself, he was here to hurt Weiss, to hurt them _ all _.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel the barest hints of remorse. Blake didn’t quite know why the appearance of this man shook her so—made her hesitate more than she did with the other opponents. She grit her teeth, eyeing him once more—and then zeroing in on his strange yellow eyes.

_ Like a hawk. _ She thought distantly, and then knew.

“You’re a faunus.” Blake grimaced. “Like me.”

He sneered, her words affecting him heavily. “You’re not a faunus, not _ really._” He readied himself once more, loading his weapons with dust—making them glow an eerie orange. “No self-respecting faunus would _ ever _ work for a _ Schnee—_no, you're not a faunus, what _you_ are isa _traitor_.”

“I guess we have that in common then.” Blake snorted, “Though my Schnee and your Schnee are so fundamentally different that even the most braindead would have to notice.”

He snarled, his eyes flickering from each of them as he prepared himself. He charged forward this time, slashing his swords and leaping sideways—fire flew from the ends of the blades, making Yang snort and Blake sigh. 

It became ridiculously apparent that the faunus was either stupid or was given _ very _bad information about the job he was on and the people he would be facing. Blake figured it was the latter.

Yang surged forward, easily gripping one of his swords with her robotic arm while Blake disarmed the other one by tieing her ribbon around his wrist—yanking downward so his body was positioned at an odd angle. 

He snarled, and it sounded unnatural coming from the delicate angles of his mouth—like a kitten attempting to cow a lion. It made Blake grimace. 

_ He’s so young. _She realized.

Using her temporary distraction, he kicked away from them both, escaping their grasp—but with only one sword to protect himself. He seemed a tad awkward without them both, though he still clearly knew how to use it—they must have balanced him.

“Give up.” Blake stated coldly, aiming her guns. “Jacques Schnee doesn’t win today.”

The young man bore his teeth, orange curls falling out of his now undone bun. “I _ don’t _ work for him.”

“You _ do_.” Yang frowned, bracing herself—waiting for the moment he decided to attack again. “I’m not surprised you don’t know it, though.” 

He hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly, though the feral look of pure malice didn’t fade from his yellow, hawkish eyes.

“I’m telling Weiss you called her ‘your Schnee.’” Yang took the moment to shoot her a grin, loading up her weapons. “It’ll make her cold little heart go _ boom, boom._” 

She sighed, catching the hint in her words and flattened her ears against her skull, only a little surprised. “Did you seriously—?”

Something blew up behind the man, sending him sprawling forward in shock. He slid forward, rolling and groaning when his body made contact with some rubble, dropping his remaining sword with a defeated _ clatter_.

Blake grimaced, she was thankful that she had the foresight to press her ears down to her hair. “You actually_ did_.”

_ “Boom, boom!” _ Yang grinned triumphantly, “I figured one more explosion would be alright, Weiss won’t even notice.”

“I'm pretty sure she will.” Blake said with a smile, looking around for her earpiece while Yang made sure to cuff the young faunus so he couldn’t get up to fight again when he woke.

She paused, bending down to pick it up and winced when she noticed the scuff marks. She tried tapping it, but frowned when nothing happened. It looked like she wouldn’t be using it to talk to anyone any time soon. She placed it in her ear, hoping that maybe it worked enough just to listen to everyone, and sighed with relief when she heard a faint stream of static.

“Take a moment to breathe.” Yang approached her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, her eyes knowing and warm. “Then we’ll head out and help everyone else."

Blake shot her a grateful look, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to Yang’s soot covered cheek, and pretended not to notice how badly Yang’s dress was ripped.

“It looks like my comm is busted.” Yang said with a pout. “I think I can fix it up in a minute—how about yours?”

“It seems like I can hear alright, but talking is no good.”

Yang hummed, fiddling with her earpiece, and slipping it back on—tapping it with a grimace on her face. 

_ “Everyone, Sun and I are going after the retreating bad guys, we’re going to try and tail them—to see where they came from, hopefully we’ll be able to find—” _ Neptune’s voice cut through Blake and Yang’s soft breathing, his tone warbled with static.

_ “That’s not a good idea, we should stick together and make sure no one else is still in the building.” _ Jaune chastised. _ “Someone could need help.” _

_ “Jaune’s right.” _ Ren stated calmly, _ “If anyone is trapped in the rubble these moments could make the difference between life and death.” _

Yang and Blake exchanged a look, and suddenly Yang seemed in a much bigger hurry to get her comm working again.

_ “I think we should look for Weiss, this is her home, after all. Perhaps we should split up? Some of us looking for remaining enemies or survivors, and the few we can spare searching for our friend?” _ Pyrrha suggested softly, her voice tinged with worry.

Blake grimaced. So she hadn’t been the only one who noticed that Weiss hadn’t been talking—if it was anyone else anywhere else she might not have worried. But this was _ Weiss _ and they were at the _ Schnee Manor_. She hoped that it was just another comm failure like the last time, but something in her gut told her that she was wrong.

Yang cursed under her breath, mumbling. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”

_ “Yes an excellent point Miss Nikos, but has anyone actually _ ** _heard_ ** _ from my sister?” _Winter interjected. She sounded worn, and the static when she spoke was much more apparent than anyone else so far. She must have been far away or underground.

_ “I’m afraid not.” _ Pyrrha responded, sounding genuienly regretful.

_ “I see… well, Whitley, Oscar, and I are with Councilwoman Hill and Miss Thyme, but we can not seem to make much sense of our surroundings. It appears as though we have fallen into one part of the basements…” _ A pause and curse, _ “_**_Ah_**_, the wine cellar, mother won’t be pleased. _”

_ “Sun and I are going, so is the rest of our team,” _ Neptune interrupted impatiently, _ “we have to make sure that—” _

_ “Jacques Schnee isn’t going to be where the mercenaries regroup, Neptune.” _ Jaune protested, _ “We should make sure that everyone is safe before running off and—” _

_ “And what, exactly? This could be our only chance to find him!” _

Blake shot Yang another look, and the two of them sighed. Weiss had warned them all that team SSSN might fly off the handle, and that they would need to be prepared for an argument or two.

It was too bad that it didn’t seem Weiss was around to settle it.

_ “Considering it’s my father you are going on about, I believe perhaps my council should be taken into consideration.” _ Winter pointed out, her voice slightly clearer than before.

_ “Don’t bother with _ ** _them_ ** _ dearest sister, they won’t listen to you.” _ Whitley interrupted, his voice dripping with badly hidden disdain. _ “They barely listen to _ ** _Weiss_ ** _ as it is, what makes you think _ ** _you’d _ ** _ have any luck? We should focus on trying to get _ ** _out_ ** _ of here, no offense to Miss Thyme and Councilwoman Hill—I’m sure you’re more than lovely company usually, you’d have to be, to have captured the attention of—” _

_ “_ ** _Brother_ ** _! Is now really the time?” _

_ “There’s _ ** _always_ ** _ enough time to aggravate you.” _

Yang snorted, but then groaned. “The stupid comm still isn’t working.”

“Maybe we should try and find one of them?” Blake suggested, but already knew that it wasn’t an option, there probably wasn’t enough time to look around—Weiss and Ruby might have been in danger, why else wouldn’t they be responding? 

_ “Uh, guys? Team SSSN is gone, looks like they booked it while we were distracted.” _ Nora interrupted. _ “Wow, they do not care at all, do they? I think they might have accidentally murdered a bureaucrat in their rush to get out of here—Aw, wait he’s just knocked out.” _

Blake pretended not to notice her genuine disappointment.

Jaune groaned, mumbling something under his breath that Blake couldn’t make out. _ “Alright, chain of command falls to me I guess…” _

_ “Actually—” _

_ “General Schnee.” _ Pyrrha interrupted. _ “I’m sure that under normal circumstances you’re more than equipped to handle the situation, but as it is you are trapped in an—er, wine cellar, right now.” _

_ “Oh dear, they destroyed all of Grandfather’s old bottles… now mother _ ** _and_ ** _ Weiss will be displeased.” _ Whitley’s voice warbled with static, slightly patchy.

_ “_**_I’m_ ** _ displeased.” _ Winter mumbled, making everyone let loose a small laugh of some kind. _ “Does everyone have their orders?” _

_ “My team will look for anyone else in the rubble, you guys just try and get free and—uh, wait a second, has anyone heard from anyone else on team RWBY?” _

“Blake and I are here!” Yang grinned at her in triumph, fixing her earpiece just in time, a cocky expression on her face. “Our comms were acting up—I managed to fix up mine, but Blakey’s is totally wrecked.”

Blake rolled her eyes.

_ “Miss Xiao Long, have you heard from my sister?” _ Whitley almost sounded worried. _ “I will be most annoyed if she is not there with you.” _

“Sorry, Baby Schnee—no dice.” 

_ “Drat.” _

“Blake and I will go looking for her and Ruby.” Yang said, “We’ll help out those we find along the way.”

_ “Alright then,” _ Jaune sighed in relief, _ “team JNPR is signing off, radio if you need us… and good luck.” _

A chorus of affirmations, and then everyone switched their comms to silent.

“Yang.” Blake began, her eyes swiveling back in forth, a frown quickly growing onto her face. “Didn’t this seem a little too easy?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just… they’re supposed to be looking for something or trying to kill Weiss right? And all they’ve been doing is terrorizing guests and attacking us—not a very smart way to get their jobs done, so I was thinking—”

“That this was a distraction—fuck.” Yang’s eyes bled orange for a moment, her lips pursing. “That guy really _ was _ stalling.”

Blake nodded, reloading her weapons. “And nobody has heard—” 

“—heard from Weiss. Double fuck.” Yang grimaced, looking around—as though trying to look for her. “We _ really _ need to find her.”

“Agreed.” She stated, gesturing for Yang to follow. “We might as well start looking around.”

“The last person who was with her—” Yang began.

“Ruby.” Blake nodded. “They’re probably together, so that might make it easier… Ruby isn’t exactly quiet.”

“Hold on a sec, really?” She slowed, looking a little astonished. “Ruby is—” 

“She told me she was worried and then snuck out the back to look for Weiss.” Blake confirmed, pausing for a moment. She understood why Yang was surprised, she hadn’t expected Ruby to be proactive when it came to their old teammate either, though she was glad for it.

“Huh. I wonder if they—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Blake shot Yang a disgusted look. “That’s our baby sister.”

“_Our_?” Yang grinned, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

“Shut up.” She hissed, and began moving again—tugging on Yang’s wrist so she’d begin to follow her outside, the last place she’d seen Ruby go. 

“Hey, c’mon, kitty-cat—I’m only teasing.” Blake didn’t have to turn around to know that Yang was still smiling.

“No, what you’re _ doing _ is giving me a migraine.” She shot her a look, rolling her eyes when she caught the look on her face. 

“Alright, alright… no need to—”

“Yang.” Blake sighed, though there was a degree of warmth that had begun to flare in her chest. “Right now is _ really _ not the time for puns.”

“I didn’t even get to say anything!” Yang shot back.

“You got that dumb look on your face, it was enough.” Blake scoffed, though she shot her girlfriend a tiny smile. “Now let’s try and hurry, something tells me they’re going to need our help.”

“Oh, yeah?” Yang grinned, moving forward and tugging on Blake’s arm so she’d be the one following this time. “You think?”

“Mhmm.” Blake hummed. “Call it intuition.”

* * *

They needed help.

Weiss was usually hesitant to admit when she couldn’t handle something, when the situation around her became too chaotic for her alone to tame—but there was no getting around the fundamental fact that _Weiss Schnee_ _needed help._

Which was too bad, considering that she had been rather proud of her streak of independence.

The first thing to go wrong was the sudden loss of their comms, Ruby had suggested the use of an emp, but Weiss was too busy shoving her out of the way of an oncoming sword to really pay much attention to what was coming out of her mouth.

The had been overwhelmed quickly, and Weiss (knowing a losing battle when she saw one) was careful not to reveal the fact that she had an obsidian dagger on her person. She felt the blade, warmed by her skin, press into her forearm. She grit her teeth, eyeing their surroundings. They could escape, if they needed to, but Weiss would have to find a way to do so without her semblance. 

Aura dampeners really were a pain.

She desperately thought of any idea that might distract the guards long enough to break the part of her bonds that were slowly sapping away her strength. If she succeeded in that, then she could build up enough power to get her and Ruby out of there. (And probably accidentally freeze all of the guards to death because of her lack of aura, but that was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make.)

Weiss shot her a meaningful glance, trying to convey just what she needed. Ruby frowned for a moment, but then nodded reluctantly. It made Weiss nearly deflate in relief, it was clear that Ruby trusted whatever Weiss had decided to do.

“Okay, so, maybe I should’ve had Crescent Rose on me.” Ruby admitted loudly, painting on a happy go lucky face and making the guards eye her uncertainty. She shrugged her bare shoulders, “But hey! Look on the brightside!”

“What’s the brightside?” Weiss asked grumpily, carefully positioning her knife point. She grimaced, she’d really liked this suit, it was too bad that it would be ripped to shreds by the time the night was over. 

“I don’t know, I was hoping you might’ve noticed one.” She said with a sheepish smile, tilting her head so that some hair fell into her face.

The sight was sickeningly adorable.

“I can’t believe that I—” Weiss shook her head, sighing—leaning back into the wall that she’d been propped up against. She shut her eyes up closed for a moment, and took the second to breathe. She’d almost said something stupid like, _ I can’t believe I’m actually attracted to you. _

Which she was actually, attracted to Ruby.

She was actually _ very _ attracted to Ruby, and she kind of despised that fact—that somehow once again _ Ruby Rose _ had managed to wiggle between her ribcage and nestle herself inside of her heart once again. The worst thing about it was that it looked as though Ruby hadn’t even _ noticed _ how highly Weiss thought of her, that she hadn’t a clue about the firm grip she had upon her heart. It drove her insane, the idea that someone could play her heartstrings so perfectly without even knowing it.

Well, that was until Weiss nearly spilled everything to her in a move of almost divine stupidity. Ruby didn’t feel the same, the ending of their relationship had _ proved _ that much, Weiss needed to let it _ go _.

(But a small voice in the back of her mind, full of hope and smiles and even sunshine whispered that she hadn’t given Ruby a chance to respond. Whispered that if her father hadn’t attacked the manor that Ruby may have told her that she felt the same. Weiss did her best to grind the traitorous thoughts to dust.)

Something can be said for the way that Weiss Schnee falls in love. The first time was… _ hard_, crushing—like the sky had simply settled itself utop her shoulders, slipping into that position like it was nothing, like her body didn’t tremble under the weight of such an emotion. There was something desperate in the way she fell in love, a terrible wanting that she couldn’t seem to comprehend as it presented itself to her. 

She felt so _ young_, the first time she fell in love—she felt so _ inexperienced _ and out of her depth and just so _ in love _. 

But it was also… nice, in a way—she _ knew _ how she felt, after a too long period spent staring at the dark gray clouds that seemed to obscure her vision, that made everything distorted—she finally _ knew. _It had been wonderful, it had been freeing—the fact that she could feel love and finally put a name to that elusive and overwhelming emotion that just seemed to constantly overcome her. She’d felt so weak in the past, when she didn’t know what she was feeling—had felt like she’d never be whole, that her time in Atlas had destroyed her in such a way that could never be put back together again. 

It was different, this time. 

Before it was a blistering heat, throbbing to the unsteady rhythm of her heart, itching just beneath her skin like an itch she just couldn’t scratch. Before it was all the wanting of a desperate woman deprived of the one thing she wanted most in the world, it had been uncomfortable and exhilarating and just so very _ electric. _

But now it was… warmer, somehow. As though she was being eroded slowly over time, as though the settling of her soul was slower, less focused—hazy. It was still the type of yearning that didn’t have a name because of how intense it was, but it was still… _ subdued _ somehow, like her love knew that it belonged to her and her soul knew that Ruby could ruin her and it was so very _ okay _ with that.

Ruby’s claim on her very essence aside, she was actually feeling a little bit better than before. 

Maybe Sun and Neptune had a point when all those times that they said talking about her feelings would make her feel better.

Weiss shook herself from her thoughts and turned back to look at the people that incapacitated them. She was disgruntled to admit that she and Ruby had lost to them, but judging from the way the mercenaries limped around or winced every once in a while, at least they’d put up a good fight. 

They hadn’t really been transported anywhere, just taken and shoved into one of the empty greenhouses that littered the manor. Which Ruby seemed to use to her advantage, complaining loudly about their choice of prison. The guards seemed to ignore her, for the most part, but Ruby kept trying—and Weiss was alright with waiting until the perfect moment when no eyes would be watching her. 

“So!” Ruby began. “Why do you think your dad hired these goons?”

_ That _, it seemed, was what finally drew the attention of the mercenaries. 

In the end, Jacques Schnee had been too cowardly to face Weiss himself. (Though she admits with great reluctance that it was the smartest thing he could do, considering the only type of fighting he’s good at was verbal and Weiss had had a bullet with his name on it for the better part of a year.) Either way, from the looks on the faces of her adversaries, it appeared that not all of them had been aware of exactly _ who _ they were taking their orders from.

Which was hilarious, as it was, considering just about everything.

“Hold up for a second.” A woman in a mask said, Weiss noticed for the first time that she had two fluffy bear ears sitting on top of her head, wiggling a little. “You mean to tell me that we just stepped in the middle of some _ family issues_?” She stepped forward a little, squatting down to look Ruby in the eye. “I mean, I love a bit of familial drama as much as the next gal, but _ c’mon_.”

Weiss took that moment to quietly stab through her sleeve, the point of the dagger cutting through the technical part of her wrist cuffs and slicing into her gloved palms a little. She didn’t even wince, careful to school her expression and slide the weapon back into her sleeve, with a little bit of luck—nobody had noticed. She fought the urge to shudder at the feeling of silk sticking to her bloodied palms.

She almost let out a soft sigh of relief when she felt her aura begin to heal her. 

Ruby wriggled in her bonds, pouting and glaring. “It’s _ serious business—_” 

“For the most part.” Weiss nodded, talking over her. “Though, really all _ you’re _ doing is delaying the inevitable either death or detainment of my father.” 

Even though she could not see her face, her posture displayed all the disgust Weiss needed to keep pressing forward. 

“Seriously.” Weiss continued, pursing her lips and angling her head downward—trying to appear sympathetic. “All he wants is me dead, and things back the way they were… for _ everyone_.” 

The guard sighed, reaching up the scratch one of her ears. “Yeah, okay I didn’t get paid enough to set back the faunus right movement a decade, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Er… you sure boss?” A deep voice came from the broadsholdered figure next to the bear faunus. “I mean, I love rights as much as the next person but… well, she’s a _ Schnee_, ain’t she?”

“Rude.” Weiss mumbled under her breath.

From beside her, Ruby tensed, and shot her a tiny incredulous look that she couldn’t quite see without turning to face her fully.

Weiss frowned, so it was alright when Ruby did something that might antagonize them but not when she did? Granted, their situations were a tad different considering just who Weiss was but _ still. _

“Don’t be a moron.” The woman stood up, turning to the random guard and cuffing their shoulder. “It was her dad that fucked shit up… though her gramps wasn’t exactly a saint either.” She turned to look back at Weiss for a second, as though considering something. “We’ll leave you here, kay princess? Cut you and your little girlfriend’s bonds, but we don’t want nothing to do with this shit—right guys?” She looked around at the rest of the guards. All five of them shifted awkwardly.

Weiss felt herself begin to relax, if it turned out that this was a ploy of some point she was beginning to recuperate some of her lost aura—not a lot, but enough to make a hasty retreat and look for reinforcements.

“But Be—” The one with dark horns began, only to be interrupted. 

“Shut up.” The woman snapped. “You know better than to fuck around with this family, kid—let’s just help the princess and get the fuck out of here, then we go from there.” She sighed, kneeling down and pulling out a combat knife. “You familiar with aura sappers, princess?”

“I know we agreed for a temporary truce,” Weiss began, “But if you call me _ ‘princess’ _ one more time I will _ not _ hesitate to skin you alive.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A nod of the head, though the woman sounded more amused than anything else. 

“And I _ do _ know about these.” She gestured limply to her bound hands and feet, “Why do you think your men are still alive?”

“Cold.” The woman snorted. “Well, these ones are special, angel—because they were apparently made specifically for whatever little experiment we were supposed to nab.” She reached up, taking lowering her hood. Since her face was still covered by the mask Weiss couldn’t make out any notable features, only able to make out how the woman’s eyes were a soft brown. “Really am sorry about all this mess, little bird—hope you don’t kill us?” The last part was asked hopefully.

Then she was cutting off the bonds. 

Weiss was up in an instant, easily slipping the obsidian dagger from her sleeve and holding it to the woman’s neck. She disarmed the combat knife with a well placed striked to her wrist—easily using platform glyphs to surround and cage her, the woman, and Ruby so that the other guards wouldn’t be able to attack them. Frost climbed from her jacket sleeve onto the dagger—lining the dark blade with white ice. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.” She hissed, pressing the sharp point harder against the woman’s tanned neck. Weiss’ right hand was grabbing the collar of the woman's shirt—her palm bunching up the slightly scratchy material. 

“Um.” She squeaked, her eyes roamed her face—desperately looking for a way out of the situation. “Honestly? I can’t come up with a good reason other than your girlfriend probably wouldn’t like it.”

Weiss furrowed her eyebrows, her nose wrinkling in distaste as she clenched tighter on the woman’s shirt collar. Her eyes flit down to where Ruby was sitting beside her, trying to reach the guard’s combat knife to cut her own bonds. 

“I mean she is helping us.” Ruby mumbled, looking up at Weiss from her eyelashes—an almost pleading look on her face. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that she’s the reason we’re here in the first place.” But Weiss’ grip was beginning to slacken.

“Still though.” Ruby paused for a moment, silver eyes flashing. “It wouldn’t be right.”

Weiss grimaced. 

_ Why did she love her again? _

Ruby then returned to attempting to reach the guard’s knife, her fingers wiggling as she tried to jump to the side in order to get to where she needed. When that failed, she laid down and tried to reach the knife by rolling around. Her body spasmed as she tried again and again, eventually ending with her stopping and sighing defeatedly while staring up at Weiss with a tiny pout on her face. “I can’t get it.”

_ Oh, right. _

Weiss felt her lips twitch upward. “I noticed.” Her eyes went back to the faunus, and cautiously—she let go. “What did my father plan to have you do, exactly?”

The woman twitched, tugging at her shirt collar and taking a hasty step backward—only to find that she had to remain close because of the platform glyphs that still blocked the way. 

“He wanted you taken away, or if you weren’t easily subdued killed all together. It wasn’t _ our _ main objective—” She gestured to her team, “—but everyone was given the aura bonds just in case—it looked like your father was a bit sadistic, having you tied up in those… experiment trappers.” The woman grimaced. “Honestly? Those bonds are suped up to the max, it’s impressive that your girlfriend is still conscious—downright fucking insane that you’ve managed to use your semblance.” 

“And what was your main objective exactly?” Weiss asked coldly.

The woman grimaced behind her mask, her mouth pursing into a thin line. She glanced at the strange bonds on the floor, watching as they seemed to wriggle with what looked like red lines of electricity. 

“Just spit it out already.” Weiss said with an annoyed sigh, her gaze wandering toward her partner. “Oh, _ honestly _ Ruby just give me a minute, and I’ll help you.” 

“I have my entire body tied up and am wildy uncomfortable!” Ruby protested. “You can’t blame me for wanting to wiggle my way out of this sticky situation!”

Weiss rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath as she bent down and propped Ruby upward. Gingerly, she carefully cut into the aura cuffs, destroying them and then cutting the extra bonds from her body—huffing in disapproval when Ruby smiled sheepishly at her.

“His orders…” The woman grimaced, continuing. “Well, they didn’t exactly tell us what to do when it came to all—this. He wanted us to find the experiment, secure it, and then take it to an extraction point.” She crossed her arms, kicking at the floor. “An asshole, your dad, the least he could’ve done was tell us that his daughter and the experiment was the _ same _damn thing.”

Weiss went very, _ very _ still. “How did you know that?”

The woman, as though sensing the change in atmosphere, put her hands up in surrender. “He gave me some sort of tracking device, I thought you were just holding it or something—but the stupid thing vibrated like crazy when you used your semblance just now, it’s _ still _ vibrating… kind of weird, to be honest.” 

“What?” Ruby asked with a laugh, turning to look up at her. “That’s impossible, right Weiss?”

Weiss was quiet for a moment, glancing at her partner from the corner of her eye and then returning to the masked woman in front of them. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way that ice was slowly climbing up the back of her neck.

“Give it to me.” Weiss said softly, though there was no hiding the steel in her voice. “Now.”

The woman hastily obeyed. 

“Are there any more of these?” She asked, fiddling with the odd little thing. It was the size of a pocket watch, gray in color and constantly buzzing with a strange sort of electricity. The second that Weiss had gripped it, the tiny screen had gone haywire—a rapid clicking sound making her cringe.

“I don’t know.” The woman admitted. “I was only given the one, but I have no idea if we were the only ones supposed to look for it—um, you.” 

“Weiss?” Ruby asked softly, beginning to stand. “What’s going on?”

“It’s… complicated.” She admitted grudgingly, “And I’ll tell you all about it _ after _we go and make sure everyone’s alright.”

“We have to talk about this Weiss—” Ruby began, and there was a hair raising glint of _ something _ in her eyes that made everything about the situation somehow so much _ worse. _

“And we _ will._” Weiss whispered to her solemnly, her shoulders tensing. “But right now we have to make sure that everyone is alright... I promise we’ll talk just… _ later_, maybe when we aren't so pressed for time.” 

“You’ve never been all that good with promises.” Ruby pointed out, a wry smile on her face despite the clearly loaded words she spoke with. 

Her words hurt more than they probably meant to, and even though Weiss knows that Ruby is right—something painful squirmed in the back of her chest. 

“I know.” She had to fight to stop herself from wilting in on herself, from showing just how much what she said had affected her. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this, _ please_.”

“I’ve never really been able to resist when you say _ ‘please’ _ have I?” The look on Ruby’s face is resigned, her impish smile still at play even with the heaviness that seemed to be entitled enough to settle around them. 

That was… not strictly platonic behaviour. 

“I can’t say I knew that.” Weiss admitted, blinking in surprise. She shook her head, trying to get rid of her astonishment and cursing herself for talking back. She could think about Ruby and her weirdly heartwarming words later. She looked back up, getting ready to suggest they leave, when she was met with the strangest sight.

The look on Ruby’s face was utterly panicked—and she opened and closed her mouth as if trying to find the right words to articulate just how clearly anxious she was, but continuously seemed to come up short. She shrunk in on herself slightly, rocking to and fro on her heels, and rubbed the back of her neck in what sounded like weak and embarrassed laughter.

“Well… uh, now you do.” The words leave her mouth in a squeak, and Weiss feels something like fondness reach up and squeeze her heart. She didn’t think she’d ever see a blushing and stuttering Ruby again—the image was strangely… comforting. 

“Right.” Weiss nodded, blood beginning to pinking her face, and turned away as though the sight of Ruby wasn’t making her heart throb uncomfortably. She was met with the knowing gaze of the faunus woman, who was shooting the two of them a rather smug look. 

“What is it?” Weiss asked with a frown.

“Nothing.” The woman said quickly with a shrug, raising her hands in surrender. “Anyway, just ‘cause my team decides to let you go doesn’t mean the next one will, so you both should probably skedaddle before they get here.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. “Here’s where we were supposed to take the experiment—um… I mean you.” 

Weiss gave her a stiff nod while Ruby beamed.

The woman gave another insufferable look, looking between the two suggestively—which was quite the feat, considering she was still wearing her mask.

“What is it?” Weiss snapped, the repeated question cutting through the air like a knife.

The woman paused, as though considering, and then shrugged. “You guys are cute together, is all.” 

“Right.” Weiss nodded, “You aren’t allowed to speak anymore.” With the wave of a hand she adjusted her glyphs so that the woman was booted out by Arma Gigas. 

The faunus scrambled to her feet, gesturing wildly to her comrades for a moment, before the rest of the mercenaries left—though not without shooting Weiss a hesitant look. She narrowed her eyes, summoning Arma Gigas once more and having him hurry the rest into leaving with a swift kick. 

She let out a sigh of relief once they were alone. 

Ruby, who hadn’t been paying much attention to the guards, gasped dramatically. “Weiss Jr. just _ literally _ kicked them out!”

Weiss choked, “Did you just call my summon _ Weiss Jr?_”

“_What_? _ Pssh_, no...” Ruby rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, edging backward.

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m pretty sure that you just—” 

“Anyway,” Ruby interrupted with a flush, “we should probably get out of here.”

Weiss decided to give her a bit of leeway. “Agreed.” 

She paused for a moment, looking down at the obsidian dagger that Klein had given her. Weiss was reluctant to give to anyone who wasn’t him… but this was Ruby, she could lend it to _ her_. 

Weiss was sure she could trust Ruby with almost anything. (A terrifying thought that did nothing to soothe the ache in her soul.)

“Here.” She gestured for her to take it. “You don’t have Crescent Rose.”

“And you don’t have Myrtenaster.” Ruby protested, raising her hands up—leaning back as though to avoid her words. 

“But I have Arma Gigas—” She gestured to her knight sternly, “—and the rest of my summons.” Weiss shot back, and to prove her point she gestured to her side, where a miniature Beowolf had suddenly spawned. “Take it. You can give it back once you have your scythe.” She moved closer, grasping Ruby’s hands and pressing the dagger into her palms. “_Please._” 

Ruby wrinkled her nose. “I really shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“Too late, now I’ll say it to you forever.” Weiss allowed herself a tiny smile. “You’ll take it now, won’t you? Because I said _ please_?”

“Are you teasing me?” Ruby asked, a tad breathless. “It sounds like you’re teasing me.” She smiled, cheeks flaring in a blush that made Weiss go still. “Nice Weiss strikes again!”

“Just take the dagger, you dunderhead.” Weiss huffed.

“I still don’t think I should—” 

She pressed the weapon into Ruby’s palms a bit harder, frowning when she noticed her not move. With a sigh, Weiss carefully wrapped her fingers around Ruby’s, positioning them so she would be holding it, she kept her eyes on their hands. “If you won’t use it to protect yourself, then promise that you’ll keep it safe for me.”

“Weiss.” Ruby’s words were soft. “Your hand.”

“Oh, apologies—” She began to move back, but Ruby was moving suddenly, gripping her left wrist and gently flipping it so her palm was facing upward. Weiss blinked, eyeing the stained silk with a quiet sort of disdain. 

Blood had seeped into the white material, and upon closer inspection was still flowing slightly, slowly starting to spread to her wrist and forearm.

“You cut yourself.” She didn’t have to look up to know that Ruby was frowning.

“It’s fine, my aura—” 

“It’s still bleeding, though.” She pointed out. “You don’t heal as fast as you used to, I noticed that… does it have to do with that… experiment—”

“Ruby.” She closed her eyes tightly. “_Please_.” 

It was quiet suddenly, the only sounds she could hear was the soft breathing that came from the two of them. Roses flooded her senses, the smell of them—and she feared that if she opened her eyes the sight of them might shatter her. Weiss knew that this was an entirely inconvenient time for them to be doing this. An entirely inconvenient time for them to fall into their own little world, to slip into their own private dimension, and she knew that getting lost in Ruby would have terrible consequences in the future—but for the life of her she just couldn’t find herself _ caring_. 

And that was a dangerous thought all on its own.

“You said _ ‘please’ _ again.” Ruby’s voice was a whisper. “But I don’t know what it is you’re _asking_ for.”

And her _ words_—loaded with an unseen emotion and tinged with heat that struck Weiss deep in her chest. Want, unbidden and overwhelming, surged inside her—striking a flame and setting her veins on fire. She almost gasped with the weight of it, knees buckling, and wondered how she hadn’t noticed how _ repressed _ she’d been. 

“_Ruby_.” She tried to make her voice sound like a warning, but what came out was a breathless whimper—one that made her cringe. It must have been obvious, now, her yearning—it must have been as clear as day. Weiss blinked her eyes open, ignoring the sting of tears that bubbled in them. 

Silver, reflective and so very bright—so beautiful that a sob almost freed itself from her throat. The look of them, the way they were glazed with such a fervent shade of earnestness and something that looked so much like _ desire _ , made Weiss’ heart stutter and still all at once. Love, desperate unending and so very overwhelming _ love_—flooded Weiss’ senses as though they were a million rose petals blown into her face. 

Ruby’s brow furrowed, something flashing in her face, and suddenly it seemed as though they were much closer than before. One hand held the dagger to Weiss’ slit palm, the other reaching up—her fingertips brushing her chin and slowly tipping it up—so that their faces were impossibly closer. 

_ Was she going to…? _

The hand not pressed to Ruby’s went to the other woman’s waist, settling on her hip and making Ruby shiver. 

And she thinks, a question that reverberates in her mind, is it possible? She remembers her thoughts of souls, her quiet admission of the hopeless grasp in which Ruby held hers—always and forever. She remembers the fondness that had swirled inside of her with the realization that no matter what happened she would always allow Ruby to see her—to really _ see _ her—and to love Ruby even though Weiss had never been comfortable with anyone looking at her at all. 

And for a second, Weiss could have sworn that Ruby felt the same.

They stared, neither of them quite able to find the words that would push them forward or backward. Would Ruby be the one who did it? Would she be the one to bridge the gap that had grown between them? It had to be her, had to be Ruby that made the first definite move, because Weiss would never believe that Ruby truly loved her otherwise. This fight wasn’t her own, she realized as she gazed into the silver eyes in front of her, this was an adversary that _ Ruby _ would have to land the killing blow. 

But that didn’t mean that Weiss couldn’t help her along the way.

It’s with that thought that desperation clambered forward, that the hope and the love and the everything about anything drowned her in such a storm of unprocessed emotion that she couldn’t allow herself to think of the consequences that might have followed her actions. For the first time in a good long while, a spark of impulsiveness shone through her—and as her eyes burned with long overdue tears she _ begged _ with every ounce of her being. And the word that ripped itself from her lips was tainted with the regret that bubbled in her stomach soon after, “_Please._”

That, it seemed, was what snapped Ruby out of it. In a flash, she was moving backward, coughing into the palm of her hand in an effort to hide her flushed cheeks, the dagger held awkwardly between her fingers.

Weiss felt something in her stomach plumet, and she moved backward also—expression much colder than before. She couldn’t help the feeling of defeat that enveloped her, like the embrace of an old friend. She fought the emotions that clambered their way into her chest, prying her ribcage open, and tried not to remember the thought of—

_ (And for a second, Weiss could have sworn that Ruby felt the same.) _

—she clenched her fists, ignoring the way the cut on her left palm reopened and stung. 

Why had the spell broken when she’d uttered the word, _ please _? How had that changed things? She couldn’t be sure.

“Come along, then.” Weiss stated, waving her bloodied hand lethargically—an almost lazy motion that resulted in the summoning in more creatures of darkness, repurposed to light. “Let us go and make sure the casualties were minimal.” She turned her back, surging toward the entrance of the greenhouse and only just managing to control the urge to scream that came with her unshed tears.

“Weiss, wait a second—”

But she was already out the door. 

The burn of shame was itchy and uncomfortable, a blush rising in the back of her neck climbing from her sternum to her cheeks—infecting her ears with the dreaded blush that came with rejection. Why had she been so stupid? She chastised herself. Even if Ruby _ did _ still love her, even if all her wants and hopes had been true, nothing would be able to come of it. Weiss was chained to Atlas, imprisoned like it’s namesake—burdened with the sins of her parents. 

She grit her teeth, her head snapping upward and blue eyes shining with a determination that only came from burying everything—the type of fire that came with tunnel vision. She’d fix her manor, she’d fix her company, she’d fix the mistake that was her father _ breathing_, and then she’d be alright—and then she would have succeeded. Weiss Schnee had no time for Ruby Rose, not like this not like she wanted, the last remnants of sand in that broken hourglass she’d dreamed of before had finally dwindled away—glass shards and the shine of a golden dagger the only things left.

“Weiss!” That was Blake’s voice, tinged with relief. “You’re alright!” And then she was a blur, rushing into her and wrapping her in a bone breaking hug. 

Weiss blinked, her eyes widening at the sight of both Blake and Yang—covered head to toe in soot and dust. Yang’s violet dress was a mess, barely concealing her and Blake’s golden suit was torn and tattered. 

“I’m fine.” The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

In the end, it was her frost that gave her away. 

“What?” Blake frowned, pulling back and pressing her arms to her cheeks, shoulders, and then arms in such a rapid movement of mothering Weiss almost received whiplash. “You’re _ freezing_.” She nodded, grabbing Yang (who was beside her) and practically shoving them together. 

Yang snorted, easily wrapping her arms around Weiss without much fuss. “It scared us, Ice Queen, you going dark like that—nobody could reach you and it _ sucked. _” 

“Nevermind that.” Her words mingled together, her desperate tunnel vision garbling her thoughts. “Where are Sun and Neptune?”

“They left, went after some of the retreating mercenaries.” Blake replied, her brow furrowing as she took Weiss in, as though reevaluating her.

Weiss went still, letting loose a soft and empathetic, “_Fuck._” (She barely noticed that she’d uttered the word in another language.) Weiss blinked away her anxiety and anger—calming herself so that her temperature might regulate itself, and looked at the paper the woman had given her, before groaning and pinching her nose. “_Of course._”

“Where’s Ruby?” This was Yang’s voice, cautious.

She nearly jumped, blinking hazily for a moment. Weiss had forgotten that Yang was holding her, melting the frost that had built up on her clothes. “She’s—” 

“Weiss, wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—!” On cue, a flurry of rose petals burst from the entrance of the greenhouse, making all three women turn to face her. Ruby’s chest was heaving, a look of wanting on her face so prevalent that Weiss’ chest simply _ ached _. “I didn’t—” She was close to tears, her mouth opening and closing, before her eyes settled on the other two. “Yang?”

“Ruby!” Then it was Ruby who was wrapped into a desperate hug, spun around in her sister’s arms. “I was so worried!” 

Blake was hurrying forward too, the same cycle of mothering that Weiss had gone through used on Ruby.

It made her pause, when had Weiss gotten close enough to trigger the same response in Blake for Ruby? She swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking off the thoughts that threatened to ruin her composure, and turned away and glared at the piece of paper in her hands. 

She needed to get to Sun and Neptune, they would back her up in what she’d decided she’d needed to do no questions asked, as long as she stayed alive. 

“Does anyone have their scroll?” Weiss interrupted the happy reunion with a serious look, “I need to borrow it.”

“If you’re trying to get a hold of Sun and Neptune they won’t answer.” Yang said, though she tossed her the device anyway. “I already called like, three times.”

“I have to try.” Weiss stated simply, quickly dialing them. This was precisely the reason that she hadn’t wanted them to rush off without telling her—why couldn’t they have just _ listened _ to her? 

She called Neptune first and swallowed the venom that pulled into her mouth when he didn’t answer. Then she tried again, calling Sun this time.

“Yo?” He answered on the third ring.

“Sun.” She snapped, gripping her elbow with the hand not holding the scroll.

“Snow Empress? Is that you?” His response was partly sheepish, as though he knew what she was about to say. “Wait, what are you doing with Yang’s scroll?”

“What do you _ think _ I’m doing?! Why aren’t you _ here_?” She snarled, and in the back of her mind she noticed a tiny bit of an accent begin to press against her words.

“Well that’s kind of a funny story—”

“Does it sound like I’m in the laughing kind of mood right now, Sun?” Weiss asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. Sometimes she despised how he could be when it came to situations like this. She did her best to calm down, she didn't want to lash out at him because she was frustrated. “It doesn’t matter, you need to get back here straight away—there’s a location that will have to be checked out, and I need the both of you to come with me.”

“Umm…” Sun started hesitantly, “Well…”

“Sun Wukong I swear to all the dust in Remnant if you and your no-good husband aren’t at the Schnee Manor in _ ten _ minutes I’ll—”

“Okay! Okay! See, I would totally do what you said if I _ could_, but here’s the thing… we kind of fell off of Atlas and into Mantle.” The last part was rushed, like if he got the words out quicker she would be less enraged.

“You…” She trailed off, her shoulders slumping slightly. “What?”

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Yang shooting her a meaningful look. Weiss looked down at her feet, grimacing when she noticed the ice that had begun to stuck her shoes in the ground. 

“We fell off of Atlas, and then into Mantle.” Sun repeated, slower this time.

Weiss took a deep breath, leaning against the nearby greenhouse wall. “How did you…?” She couldn’t even finish her sentence without letting loose a ragged sound from her throat.

“So we were chasing some of the bad guys—”

“Which I specifically told you _ not _ to do.” She snapped, re-energized by the reminder of what they had done.

“—and then all of a sudden more had shown up and started shooting at us and then Scarlet lost control of the ship we commandeered—” He rambled, and if she could see him she had no doubt that he’d be anxiously running a hand through his hair.

“_Sun_.” Weiss interjected through gritted teeth.

“—and _ then _ we were crashing into a warehouse, and what would you know it, _ more _ bad guys—”

“_Sun Wukong!_” She exclaimed.

“...uh, yeah?” His voice was a soft squeak.

“I told you, I _ told _ you not to do anything reckless like go after any of the possible assailants, it was my _ one _ condition, Sun.” She pressed her palm harder onto her forehead, running it down her face with a tired and defeated sigh. “And you all went and did it _ anyway. _”

“We… We never _ promised _ anything.” He tried, though from his tone he knew he was grasping at straws.

“Because I never thought I’d have to have you promise me something as _ important _ as this!” She yelled back, and a different kind of desperation than before surged through her. “You could have been _ killed_—do you know what my father would have done to you, to anyone that I even remotely care about given the chance? You _ do_, and still—” She choked on her words, struggling to keep her composure. “... _ Still_, you went after them.”

“I’m… we thought we were doing the right thing.” He said softly.

“I _ know _ you did, Sun—but there isn’t… there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do to ruin him if he touched a _ hair _ on your head, do you understand? Not _ one _ single thing.” The actions she would take, the things she would resort to—they terrorfied her, they accompanied the horrible idea that maybe she and her father weren’t so different as she liked to think. 

“We… we scared you pretty bad, huh?” Sun asked, his voice a whisper. 

“Yes. Yes you did, I—” She swallowed the lump in her throat, and tried not to jump away when she felt Yang set a steadying palm on her shoulder. Heat blazed through her palm, and Weiss wondered if she was trying to melt any ice that had accumulated around her. “—I _ know _ you mean well, Sun—I _ do_, but… this isn’t something we can do without thinking about it first… you know what he’s done, what he’s capable of, what rushing in without a plan can _cause_.”

“...yeah.” There was something broken in his voice. “Yeah after all that happened—” She heard him swallow thickly, “—we should have known better.” 

“Get back here, okay?” She told him, looking down at the paper in her hands. Weiss closed her eyes, doing her best not to let the sound of her complicated emotions leech over the call. “We can… we can talk about the rest when everything’s been taken care of. I just… I thought that after last time—” She shook her head, cutting herself off abruptly. “Just get here soon.”

“I really am sorry, Weiss.” He admitted softly. “We should make it there in an hour or two, after the military takes our statements.”

“Alright.” She grimaced, shuddering. Her suit was damp, now. “I… be careful, and be _ safe._”

“We will.” Sun affirmed seriously. “Bye.”

“Goodbye.” Weiss mumbled into the scroll hanging up the call. She let out a breathless sigh, exhaustion beginning to wear on her. A frown marred her face as she did her best to shake it off. “Here.” She handed Yang back her scroll, rubbing at her eyes.

“Are… are you okay?” Yang asked. “You don’t look so well.”

“You yelled a lot.” Blake added.

“And you sounded scared.” Ruby mumbled, not quite looking at her.

Weiss swallowed for a moment, eyeing them uncertainty. They were close now, weren’t they? Of course they were, she chastised herself, it was just still so surreal—the sight of them so very _ willing _ to be there for her. 

“It’s fine.” She said, her voice raspier than before. Weiss cleared her throat. “They should be back soon.” Another deep breath. "Did you see what happened? How they got in?"

Yang and Blake exchanged unreadable looks. 

“Explosions all over.” Blake revealed softly, “A bit of the roof in the main hall caved in and they used it to get in, also your chandelier is only just hanging.”

“And um…” Yang looked a tad sheepish. “There’s a bit of ice, earth, and fire dust residue—they really pulled no punches.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her frown deepening when she noticed Yang begin to squirm a little. “Right… were there any casualties? Is anyone hurt badly?” She hoped Winter and Whitley were alright.

“We don’t know yet.” Yang admitted. “Team JNPR and the majority of Robyn Hill’s girls are dealing with the civilians, and your siblings are with Oscar, Robyn, and Fiona—they fell into… the wine cellar, I think?”

Weiss let out a breath. “Mother won’t be pleased.”

Blake snorted. “That’s exactly what your sister said.” 

“We should go and help everyone.” Ruby said, her leader face on. “Hopefully there were no deaths.”

Somehow, Weiss doubted she’d be that lucky.

“Right, well I have to go find Winter.” She grimaced, she loathed to ask the Atlas Military for anything—even if they _ were _ run by her sister. “She can send operatives to the location we received from the mercenary.” 

“Ooh, maybe she’ll send Uncle Clover.” Yang grinned. “I haven’t seen him in a little while.” She nudged her sister. “Wouldn’t that be _ cool_?”

“Yang, please.” Ruby shot her a suffering look. “I can’t take your puns right now, oh unfunny sister of mine.” She paused. “Though it would be really awesome if we could see him, and Uncle Qrow too.”

“I’ll ask Winter if she can spare them.” Weiss said with a hesitant nod, trying to keep her gaze from lingering too long. “Now—shall we head to the manor together? Or do you have to go another way?”

“We can go together.” Blake rubbed some of the dust from her hair. “We’ll split up as soon as we reach JNPR, it isn’t a good idea to go rushing off on your own right now.”

Weiss frowned, but hummed in agreement. She was in no state to argue, and even if she was she didn’t want to do so with Blake. They rushed back to the manor, Yang grilling Ruby for details about what had happened to them—all the while Weiss pretended she didn’t feel something cold clench her stomach when Ruby talked to her sister, not mentioning a single thing about what happened between them.

It wasn’t like Weiss had expected Ruby to say anything, and especially not to Yang of all people—not at that moment at least—but still, it stung. She couldn’t help but feel like something significant had happened between the two of them, couldn’t help but feel like whatever it was had been swept under the rug—to be ignored forevermore.

When the reached team JNPR she announced that she’d be off looking for her sister, and before she could hurry off she found Ruby glancing at her. It was only for a moment, and as soon as Ruby had noticed that Weiss had seen her she looked away quickly, but the ache in her chest was sharp and long lasting. 

Weiss grimaced. 

Things certainly had gotten far more complicated than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like, the whole almost kiss thing??? yeah i kind of wanted them to finally fucking do it too but then i got it in my head that things would be worse if they did it right at that moment because with all the action and drama that was going on it would have been super easy for the both of them to ignore it and cause more angst in general. Because let's be honest is a second of relief worth a century of pain??? probably not. i didn't want to do you guys dirty like that
> 
> so there first kiss will be happy and romantic and with only a little bit of angst (because it's ME i need a little light angst or it doesn't feel real to me) and it will be in a place that will have all the time in the world (also sorry about the nameless original characters lmao, but know that the chick who freed weiss was totally picking up on the vibe that whiterose was laying down)
> 
> god weiss just needs to get laid,,,,, actually all the schneeblings need to get laid fuck
> 
> most of this was written to the song "love you so bad" by Ezra Furman, which you would know if you followed me on tumblr... anyway listen to it pls


	11. breathing easy (or under wraps)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the truth was that they had left each other—and wasn’t that _infinitely_ more romantic than before? A bitter voice asked her. Wasn’t it much more poetic for them to have had similar problems, for them to leave each other—Weiss who had accepted the end with little more than a nod, and Ruby who had not known how to properly convey how important Weiss still was to her. And wasn’t that strange? That Weiss, stubborn and hardheaded and in love, had given up so easily? Had laid down her right to love Ruby, had laid down her heart and hidden her feelings away in her rib cage—trapped in a messy prison of bone and muscle and blood. 
> 
> And wasn’t that so odd? So confusing? And wasn’t that so _strange_?__
> 
> _ _But it wasn’t, because Weiss had always had a lingering fear that Ruby would wake up one day and decide that was it, had always had that notion that something wasn’t right with all her happiness, that she was the wrong person in the wrong time—that maybe she was missing out on something everyone else seemed to see._ _
> 
> _ _Or;_ _
> 
> _ _In the right circumstances, fear begets bravery._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahahahahahahahaha---
> 
> this chapter is bit of a doozy,,,,,,, legit it's basically just dialogue and feelings
> 
> if you don't want anything that i write to hurt you, read it in the voice of dale gribble from king of the hill... i learned that from game grumps

Yang Xiao Long had been in love with Blake Belladonna for a long time. A long, _long_ time. It wasn’t love at first sight exactly, wasn’t as though Yang looked into her eyes that first time in the forest and _knew_. It was… different, than that—than that expectation of _knowing_ everyone seems to think that she had. No, Yang didn’t fall in love at first sight, but she was intimately aware about how something about the woman she’d met (mysterious and witty and hesitant to do much of anything to anyone) had drawn Yang toward her.

It was like a pull, something clutching at her chest and mercilessly tugging her toward her—warming her with something her teenage self hadn’t known the name of. As time went on, it began to get easier and easier to fall in step with Blake, to be around her, to be near this girl, who had such beautiful eyes, who had such a wonderful smile, who seemed to care in such a way that Yang had never seemed before. Slowly, that ease Yang had in her presence began to become something more—evolved into a craving for her to be near her, to be _with_ her. 

And that was how Yang Xiao Long fell in love. 

It wasn’t too slow, and it wasn’t too fast.

It was _just_ right.

“Hey, uh, so I wanna marry you.”

Which was why _that_, which seemed to have absolutely no build up, seemed to smack her across the face. Yang tripped over nothing, landing on her face with a surprised squeak—her body laying unmoving for a second.

“_Yang_!” Blake rushed over to her, kneeling next to her as she rolled over to look up at the (improvised) sky light. “Are you alright?”

Yang didn’t respond for a second, only able to stare up at the stars and breathe. Finally, she managed to grasp some words. “Did… did you just fucking _propose_ to me right now?”

“Not exactly.” Blake defended herself. “When I propose it will not be here, surrounded by wreckage and the knocked out bodies of people trying to kill us. I just wanted to tell you, so we could talk about it later.”

“Oh, so we’re opening up discussions of marriage?” Yang asked absentmindedly, her voice high pitched. “That’s totally dope.”

“Are… are you just going to stay like that?” Blake asked, “Ruby’s not going to be gone long, do I really have to be the one to tell her that you tripped over yourself?”

“Well, I mean… You just surprised me, baby.” Yang smiled sheepishly, her cheeks flushing. “Like we should totally, uh, open communication about… _marriage_… soon.”

“Oh?” Blake smirked down at her, extending a hand to help her up. “So you’d like to get married, would you?”

“Was that not obvious?” Yang asked, gripping Blake’s palm and allowing herself to be hauled up to her feet. “I feel like that was obvious.” 

“It wasn’t exactly.” Was Blake’s response, her smirk still firmly fixed on her face. “But I do appreciate you saying so.”

“Cool.” Yang squeaked out, “That is… uh, totally coolio.” She couldn’t help but shoot Blake a sheepish thumbs up. 

“You are such a nerd.” Blake sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let’s hurry up and move before your nerdiness begins to physically harm me.”

“Or…” Yang drew out, carefully pulling Blake closer to her. “We could…”

“Your libido is appalling.” She sighed, leaning her forehead on Yang’s shoulder. “Like, _entirely_ too appaling, Yang we’re in the middle of something.”

“Baby, this is coming from someone who reads ninja smut on mission stakeouts—”

“It’s _not_ smut, it’s _erotica_.” Blake protested, leaning backward while shooting her the nastiest glare she could muster. (Which was actually pretty cute.)

“Okay, is that any better though?” Yang asked with a grin. “I mean, I get it, you like katana porn—”

“Yang Xiao Long!” Blake hissed, her face burning. “This is _so_ not the time for this.”

Yang smiled down at her, carefully positioning one hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. “Oh? You sure?” She whispered. “I can be…” She leaned down, her breath fanning across her girlfriend’s (fiance? Were they there yet?) face. “Very persuasive.”

Blake stared up at her, eyes dilating slightly, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. She wrinkled her nose suddenly. “Your breath smells like shrimp cocktail.”

“I like my shrampies!” Yang pulled away, pressing a hand against her chest, an offended expression on her face. “And Weiss always buys the _good_ shit for events like this!”

“Wow.” Blake sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe I want to marry you.”

“Neither can I.” Yang winked playfully. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to?”

“_Wow_.” She pushed away from her hiding her face into the palms of her hand. “I mean, _wow_.”

“Cat got your tongue?” Yang asked, gripping Blake’s hands and gently moving them out of the way so she could see her face.

“Yang, please.” 

“Blake, fur-real I don’t understand what was wrong with what I said.” 

“_Yang_.” The exasperation that was in her tone didn’t match up with the slow smile that was beginning to grow on her face.

“Hey, baby, you’re the one who signed up for this.” Yang pointed out, wiggling her eyebrows. “I have to make a cat pun once everyday at least—it’s mandatory, the law has been decreed and I must follow it.”

“Oh so you’re following the law now?”

Yang gasped dramatically. “How dare you imply that! I’ll have you know that I am a purrfectly paw-abiding kit-izen.”

“That was like… getting stabbed in the chest three times—one after another.” Blake groaned. “Why, Yang, _why_?”

“Because I love you, because you make me happy.” Yang said, a soft smile beginning to twist her lips upward. She gripped one of Blake’s hands, raising it to her mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to her fingers. “Because you said you wanted to be with me forever and I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into—I wanted to make sure my jokes weren’t a deal breaker.”

“Nothing about you is a deal breaker.” Blake whispered quietly, and then tilted her head, considering. “Except maybe your shrimp breath.”

“Guess I gotta start keeping mouthwash on me.” Yang sighed forlornly, dramatically leaning back pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “A sacrifice I’m willing to make for you.”

“Well.” Blake scooted forward, bringing a hand to her face and wiping a bit of soot from her mouth. “Maybe I’m willing to compromise, just this once.”

“Weren’t you _just_ making fun of my libido—”

But then Yang wasn’t speaking, cut off by the gentle press of the lips of the woman in front of her. The person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Kissing Blake Belladonna was always an experience that she would never forget. The soft brush of her mouth burned itself into Yang’s soul, a fiery fluttering feeling of love and hope and bravery that never seemed to diminish over time. 

Yang leaned into it, wrapping her arms around Blake’s shoulders and sighing as Blake’s fingers carefully cupped the curve of her jaw—as her other hand snaked around her waist. Warmth surged through her, reaching from her chest and pushing it through the veins of her body, a comfortable feeling settling just under her skin—electric and buzzing with every movement the two made for each other. 

Blake pulled away, breathless and smiley, and Yang couldn’t help but return the look on her face.

“We can continue this later.” Blake sighed, but buried her face into Yang’s neck. “We have to make sure everyone is okay.”

“Alright.” Yang mumbled into her ear gently, “But one more, for the road.”

Suffice to say, ‘one’ turned into ‘two’ which turned into ‘three’ and so on and so on until they were shocked out of their embrace by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Yang! Blake!” Ruby called. “You better not be making out!” Something that suspiciously sounded like gagging rang out through the room. “I can _not_ walk in on something like that again, nightmares, terrible older sister of mine, _nightmares_.”

Yang sighed and mumbled out, “For you and me both.” 

They hurried forward, holding hands, and were met with the suspicious glances of her younger sister.

“Something’s different.” Ruby pointed out, narrowing her eyes. “It better be a good different and not a _gross_ different.”

“Have you so little faith in your beloved older sister?” Yang asked sarcastically, her voice sounding haughty and fake. “Oh, Rubes, you wound me with such accusations.”

Ruby grimaced. “Please never open your mouth ever again.” She fidgeted, looking stressed out and uncomfortable, and Yang’s playfulness dropped in an instant.

“What’s the matter, sis?” She asked, wrapping an arm around Ruby. “You seem more wound up than usual.” 

“_I almost kissed Weiss!_” Ruby blurted out immediately, her face going bright pink as the words slipped out of her mouth. “And I’m pretty sure that when Weiss said we we’re protecting an experiment she meant we were protecting _her_ who _is_ the experiment.”

Blake’s mouth dropped open, “_Oh_.” She winced, exchanging a look with Yang over Ruby’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Ruby asked, rubbing at her eyes tiredly.

“Uh… well I can’t safely say that I knew you’d try to kiss Weiss tonight.” Yang said, carefully arranging her sister so Blake could wrap an arm around her too. “But I can say that for the experiment thing… Well, it wasn’t exactly _obvious_, but we kinda… figured.”

Ruby froze, her shoulders stiffening. “What do you mean you _‘kinda figured_.’”

“She told us that what happened to her was an experiment gone wrong.” Blake told her gently. “She told us that it had to do with _dust_.”

“And she got that _look_ on her face.” Yang added. “The one that she gets after she talks about something going wrong with her family, you remember it, right? She got it when we all met her asshole dad for the first time.”

Ruby stared down at her hands, her shoulders stiff and her mouth pulled into a thin line. “What the _fuck_.”

Yang jumped, accidentally jostling both her sister and her girlfriend, and almost tripped over more wreckage. Blake was gaping, staring at Ruby as though she had a second head, and Yang honestly couldn't blame her. Ruby… Ruby didn’t just cuss like that, sure she might say some of the more minor curse words like ‘damn’ or ‘shit’ but even those were kind of rare. She _absolutely_ didn’t say the word _fuck_. She just _didn’t_—no matter how many times Yang had tired to cajole her into saying it Ruby just didn’t, the word “fuck” just _wasn’t_ in Ruby’s vocabulary.

Apparently, Yang had been wrong.

“Rubes?” She tried, “You alright?”

“No, Yang.” Ruby sighed, clenching her fists and then grabbing at her shoulders. The material of her red dress bunched between her fingers, turning paler than normal—a testament to how strong her grip was. “I’m not alright.”

Yang wondered what it was like for her sister in this situation, wondered what it would be like if the person she loved the most in the world had been… _experimented_ on, had been religiously put in danger by assassination attempt after assassination attempt—wondered what it would be like if that person didn’t trust her enough to talk to her about these things, if that person had become so desensitized to their own suffering that they just didn’t _notice_ that what was happening to them was so wrong.

She glanced at Blake, and found the look on her face mirrored.

Oh.

Yang didn’t know if she would have been able to survive.

“Ruby.” Blake started softly, trying to convey as much gentleness as she could in her voice. “Weiss is… you know how she is, she—”

“She doesn’t trust me.” Ruby mumbled, “She doesn’t trust _us_.” She gripped at her face, hiding her expression from them both. “I _know_ that... but, I guess I just thought that maybe we’d… we got a little closer to her, close enough for her to talk to and to…”

“Ruby.” Yang swallowed. “Did you seriously try and kiss Weiss?”

“I—sort of.” She revealed. “I pulled away at the last second… I got scared.”

“Oh, Rubes.” She sighed softly, carefully drawing her sister closer to her. “You have to talk to her about all of this.”

“But that’s the problem!” Ruby exclaimed, wrenching away from her. She spun, pacing back and forth as she threw her hands in the air—her gestures tainted by frustration. “She _never_ wants to talk about these things, I used to try so hard, so hard—and she never—! She would never—!” Ruby’s shoulders shook, the weight of the world seeming to topple her over. “I’m so _scared_, Yang.”

“I know.” She whispered softly, approaching her cautiously. “I know you’re scared, Ruby.”

Ruby rubbed at her eyes, her hands coming away wet from the tears that had begun to seep from her eyes. “What do I do?” She asked, voice soft and small—weaker than Yang had ever heard before. “What am I supposed to _do_?” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Blake whispered, kneeling down next to Ruby. “We will.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Yang asked. “Like, really, _really_ love her.” She knew that of course, she had _known_ that—but for some reason it felt like she was just realizing it, like the concept was just beginning to cement itself into her mind. 

Ruby nodded, shakily, looking up at her through her tears.

“Then we’ll fix it.” Yang’s voice was determined. “We’ll figure out how to make things better.”

And though Yang had no clue how to help, even though she couldn’t even begin to come up with a plan of action that might make things better—she knew that Ruby believed her.

* * *

There was a sense of unease that seemed to follow every action she took. It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn't as though Weiss had _meant_ to broadcast her rapidly slipping sense of control—but it appeared as though her sister had seen it anyway. It was kind of her siblings, to tell Weiss to go somewhere else, to let them take care of the issues and the problems that had arisen with the attack. But Weiss couldn’t seem to let go of the mentality that she was supposed to be doing something—anything—to help take down her father. 

“Sister, please.” Winter sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You need rest, you need a moment to yourself—why will you not _take_ it.”

They were standing in the manor, in one of the less wrecked parts of it at least, and Weiss was just managing not to begin to lose herself in a frenzy of stress and anxiety.

“I can’t simply sit around and wait for results, Winter.” Weiss seethed. “I can’t just do nothing—”

“You aren’t going to be sitting around!” Whitley interjected over her. “You’re going to be sleeping, something you _need_, Weiss—we won’t let you run yourself to the bone!”

And the anger that swirled within her at that statement was so overwhelming it might as well have drowned her. She could feel that stirring in her chest, the one that made her feel venomous and dangerous—one that made her feel like she needed to _do something_. Steam may as well have been seeping out of her mouth and ears, a desperate fire raging inside of her that wanted _more more more_, that wanted to eat and eat and _eat_—until there was nothing left for it to consume.

She’d _been_ running herself down to the bone, she’d _been_ working and fighting with the desperation of ten thousand scorned—she was _used_ to it, and how dare he say what he did as though she _wasn’t_, as though she had _just_ begun to overwork herself. Weiss Schnee had been working, had been using every scrap of energy she had left in her miserable little soul just to make sure that they would never have to even _think_ about the matter with her father—so they could be happy, so they could afford to be _kind_.

(And he says this, as though she has had him to rely on, as though she didn’t see his face whenever their father is mentioned—whenever the thought of leaving the life he had cultivated for himself struck him. And he says this, as though she’s allowed a moments rest, as though she has the luxury of taking a _break_.)

“Weiss.” Winter’s voice caressed her gently, washing over her sense of self and attempting to soothe her anger. “Weiss, we will _fix_ this, I promise.”

Her shoulders shook, unrestrained rage contorting her face and making her hands tremble. “Somehow… I don’t believe you.”

Her sister's eyes went wide and her mouth pursed. “Weiss—” She reached out, settling a hand on her shoulder—only to recoil when a thin layer of frost settled over her palm, climbing up to her wrist. “Weiss.” And this time her name was said mournfully.

“I have to… I have to do something, Winter.” Weiss swallowed. “I _have_ to, I have to—”

“No.” Whitley glared at her. “No, you don’t.” He leaned closer, glaring down at her. “Who ever said you had to hold up the sky? You aren’t Atlas, Weiss.” 

“Shut up.” Is what left her mouth, “Shut _up_!”

“You’re stressed.” Whitley continued. “And you’re making mistakes, you need to sleep, you need to eat, and you need to get out of this _damn_ _manor_.”

Weiss felt her feet freeze to the floor she was standing on.

“Did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Whitley scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “This place is a poison, Weiss. For all of us, the only one who actually likes it here is Mother, and that’s only because she actually _has_ good memories here.” He paused. “Well, not many _recent_ ones.”

“The point is you are not alone, little sister.” Winter said very gently. “You have to know that we are here for you, and so are many others.”

What else could she possibly have thought? A bitter voice in the back of her mind sniped. What else would be going through her mind in the face of all she’s had to fight back against so far?

“I can’t just do nothing.” The words leave her mouth again, a repetition. “I _can’t_.”

“You won’t be.” Winter assured her gently, reaching up and brushing away some of the frost that had begun to climb up Weiss’ cheeks. “We have to plan for this, Weiss—you know that more than anyone else, but in order to do so you have to be rested, you have to be ready for anything—and you won’t be if you’re dead tired.”

Weiss shrank in on herself. It didn’t feel right, doing nothing while she allowed her siblings to take care of finding her father.

(But then again, nothing seemed to feel right to her, these days.)

“Okay.” She mumbled, “Fine.” The words wrench themselves from her mouth, and it is as though instead of words they are teeth—ruthlessly pulled from her skull like some sort of torture or punishment. 

Whitley watched her, his eyes assessing. “Something else happened, didn’t it?” His face screwed up, his nose wrinkling as his gaze flickered from her face and posture. “This isn’t only about Father.”

“Ruby.” She said simply, tired of the smoke and mirrors that followed her feelings for her old partner. “She…”

“Say no more unless you wish to.” Winter interjected, “I know that Ruby Rose is a person held dear to your heart, but I also know she is one who… hurts you, more than others.”

“You aren’t comfortable sharing your pain with others.” Whitley added. “I think that your selflessness is commendable, but Winter claims it isn’t exactly so considerate when you get like this.”

“Because it isn’t.” Winter explained, shooting Whitley a look that Weiss couldn’t decipher. “Fear runs deep inside of all of us, and it is moments like these that Weiss allows it to control her—emotion is powerful, but we must never allow it to have total power over what we do, whether the action is voluntary—” She brushed a bit more frost from Weiss’ shoulders, “—or involuntary.”

“You think I’m afraid.” Weiss said, averting her gaze. 

“Wrong. I _know_ you are afraid.” Winter rose a brow, “But I also know that in the right circumstances, fear begets bravery—and that one day soon you will find yourself responsible for the creation of courage.”

“Courage?” Weiss asked quietly, a slightly bitter laugh leaving her lips, looking up into her sister's eyes. “You think I can be courageous, sister?”

“Wrong.” Winter said, a tiny smile rising on her face. “I _know_ you can be.”

* * *

Weiss was forced to take up residence in one of the hotels on Atlas, which was fine, if not for the fact that her mother had to stay in the room across from her, and kept coming over to drink wine on Weiss’ balcony. Willow claimed that ‘the view was better’ but Weiss had a sneaking suspicion that her mother simply didn’t want to be alone. Weiss understood this, and didn’t complain—she still had a company to run after all. (Whitley and Winter would never touch the SDC with a ten foot pole, but they seemed entirely okay with hunting down their father, something that Weiss didn’t quite understand.)

Ruby found her three days into her stay.

Weiss blinked, her hand on the doorknob slipping as she stared in astonishment at the sight in front of her. 

Ruby looked… stressed? Her arms were buried in the front pocket of a black sweatshirt, the hood hidden in the red one of her cape. Her mouth was twitching upward and downward, as though she was trying to shoot Weiss a reassuring smile but kept messing up, and her silver shorts were bunched up and wrinkled. 

“We need to talk.” The words left Ruby’s mouth fast, slipping from her lips so quickly she may as well have spat out rose petals. 

“Right.” Weiss let out a sigh, opening up the door further and allowing Ruby to stumble inside. She closed the door, walking past her and back to where she had been working before Ruby had knocked on her door. She glanced down at her hands, suddenly aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing any gloves, and tried not to panic at the fact that Ruby could freely look at the scars.

Those words, ‘we need to talk.’ They struck at Weiss, sticking to her chest as she adjusted the files on her improvised desk. A soft shuddering sigh escaped her, and she turned to face her old partner—tired already despite the fact that they hadn’t begun talking yet. She wondered what would happen if she allowed Ruby to continue, what would happen if she did her best to explain herself. She came up to the conclusion that it would be nothing good.

“Ruby,” She began, tired eyes barely lifting from the paper she had been examining. “Please, I have work to do—”

“Weiss, we need to talk about what happened in that greenhouse.” Ruby cut her off effortlessly, words outdoing hers without much thought.

The hesitance in her tone makes the back of Weiss’ throat burn. Why was it that she wanted to talk _now_, as she was so obviously busy. _Now_? The moment she had been using to ready herself for the oncoming battle that would follow her father’s attack? Couldn’t Ruby take a second to read the room, to notice that Weiss was very much _busy_?

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She said simply, setting down the files on her desk and looking Ruby in the eye. 

“But—”

“If you are referring to the experiment that my father had conducted, this is not the proper time to discuss it.” Weiss interjected before Ruby could continue. “The Council is relentless, the reporters are merciless, I have to get out in front of this before the SDC suffers for my father’s actions, for the casualties he caused—however, when all this is over, we can have a talk about the… consequences that accompanied unethical experimentation.”

“Oh right, we need to talk about that too.” Ruby nodded rapidly.

Weiss blanched. “Why did you come here if you didn’t want to talk about that?”

Ruby opened her mouth to reply, a startlingly determined look in her eye, only to be cut off by another voice

“Oh ungrateful daughter of mine—” They were interrupted by the appearance of her mother, slipping in from the balcony, a red bottle hanging loosely in her hands. Her voice was saccharine sweet, a sound that made Weiss wrinkle her nose in distaste. “Oh, Miss Rose is here, I didn’t know we were having guests over.”

“Neither did I.” Weiss sighed, moving to stand, “Are you alright? You’re up and about and you haven’t even run out of wine yet.” 

“Oh, you’re _hilarious_, darling.” Willow sighed dramatically, leaning up against the pale blue walls of their suite. “How that is, I know not, considering the fact that your father had no sense of humor—perhaps I had an affair with one of the servants, that would certainly explain it, say Weiss you wouldn't be happening to hide a faunus trait would you? That would _certainly_ help narrow down the search for your real father.”

Weiss rolled her eyes so hard they almost fell out of her head. “Mother we both know you didn’t have an affair.” And then quieter. “As much as you probably wanted to.”

“You could at least allow me to _pretend_, Weiss.” She huffed, placing her still rather full bottle on the dresser beside her and crossing her arms. Her mother looked the perfect picture of spoiled nobility, elegant and bitter despite the lavish amount of things that encompassed her.

“Fine then, you had an affair that resulted in Winter and Whitley, the two of you were very much so star-crossed and he was banished away to work on a farm or in the mines or something, and you go to sleep cursing the name of the one who sent him away.” She rolled her eyes, huffing and crossing her arms. “Now can we please—”

“Ah, so you’re the only one who’s actually the spawn of my bastard ex-husband?” Willow asked, her eyes twinking in both mirth and distaste. She leaned back further on the wall, wrapping her coat tighter around her body and adjusting her red muffler. “And why is that, darling daughter?”

“If only because I have monumentally bad luck, and I’m clearly the one most deserving of divine punishment. Now, what did you _want_?” Weiss asked, exasperation leaking from her tone.

_“I wanted to know if you needed a rescue.”_ Her mother explained, lapsing into another language. The look in her eyes was softer, suddenly. As though she genuinely wished to help Weiss in this capacity. _“It’s not everyday you get a visit from a scorned ex-lover_.”

Oh. She thought. She didn't know that mothers did that.

when the words finally sunk in Weiss felt her cheeks burn. _“We’re hardly scorned, Mother._” 

Willow shrugged, returning back to common. “Yes, well, I happen to be the expert on the subject so—”

“For the last time you did _not_ have an affair.” Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. “I suppose Jacques would count as ‘_scorned_’ but you make it seem as though you had numerous—”

“I could have!” Willow protested indignantly. “I was very drunk, and there were _many_ fit servants—”

“Mother, _please—_”

“You would know, yes? Madam Ginger was telling me about the new groundskeeper, he’s quite handsome isn’t he? Though, what about the new assistant baker, Madam Ginger tells me that she’s a _very_ lovely—”

“Mother!” Weiss interjected, not doing well at hiding her exasperation and burying her face in her hands. “You’re _drunk_.”

It went quiet for a moment. 

“I’m actually not, though.” Willow admitted, looking at the bottle on the dresser. “I tried, but… well, I suppose there’s nothing like drinking in our lovely garden.”

“That…” Weiss paused, trying to find a way to articulate how she was feeling. “How cruel of you.” 

To allow her to believe that she’d been drinking, to sit on her balcony with a bottle and allow her to think that her mother was doing it again, to crave someone else’s company so much that you pretend to be something harmful.

_(How cruel, to crave her company in such a way.)_

“Yes, well, you’ve become quite accustomed to cruelty, haven’t you?” Willow winked, though the expression on her face was chilly. She adjusted her red scarf, covering her mouth and nose. Her eyes flitted back and forth from Ruby to Weiss, before she nodded her head solemnly. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, take care.”

“Yes, Mother.” Weiss mumbled, watching as she left the bottle on the dresser, slipping past Ruby before pausing and shooting her daughter one last look. 

When she was finally gone, Ruby’s shoulders slumped in on themselves. “You guys are so _weird_ sometimes, I swear! I can never tell if you’re in an argument or not.”

“It depends.” Weiss confessed with a half-hearted shrug. “Our conversations are so convoluted that sometimes it gets hard to distinguish them from arguments.”

“But, you can tell the difference?” Ruby asked, looking utterly perplexed.

“Most of the time.” Weiss returned to her makeshift desk, reaching for the files. “All I have to do is see who stopped antagonizing the other first. If it’s her, then it wasn’t. If it’s me then it was.” She shook her head, “Though sometimes it depends on who got the last word.”

Ruby twitched, rubbing at the back of the head. “That seems… complicated.”

“It is.” Weiss agreed absentmindedly. “Now was there something you needed?” She frowned. “Wait, what are you even doing here still? I thought you would’ve headed back to Patch by now.”

Ruby looked a tad sheepish then. “I… I wanted to stay for a little while, to, uh…” She blushed a little, turning her face away. “I just… I guess I just wanted to be near you for a while.” She fidgeted, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

(She’s distinctly aware of the fact that if Sun and Neptune were there, one of them would be going, “Yo, what the _fuck_?”)

Weiss clenched her jaw, and once again that _anger_—the one that had followed her like a parasite, sticking to her evilly with the type of ungodly rage that could only follow a divine being, that had _burned burned burned_ inside of her when she was talking to her siblings—flared to life. It was a fuming smolder, blazing and sparkling in cold flames that centered inside of her chest and extended throughout her body. 

“Is that so?” She managed to ask, her voice cold, she clenched her fists—hiding her washed out knuckles by crossing her arms around her tighter.

“We need to talk about what happened in the greenhouse.” Ruby said after a brief hesitation, swallowing after a moment. “We _need_ to.”

_You_ need to. A nasty voice in the back of her mind snarled. You mean that _you_ need to.

“Didn’t we already put this matter to rest?” Weiss asked, distantly aware of the fact that ice was beginning to coat itself in between her fingers.

“No, no we didn’t.” Ruby said, her voice sounding stern. “You only answered one of my questions—we only talked about one of the things that happened, and even then it was just you telling me that you didn’t have the time to talk to me about it, and subtly implying that I should make an appointment or something.”

“Ruby—” Weiss began with a sigh, before pausing. “Actually, making an appointment is probably a really good idea.”

Ruby crossed her arms, teetering back and forth from one foot to the other. She took a deep breath, and looked Weiss in the eye, her gaze serious and resolved. “Weiss, we _nearly_ kis—”

“No.” Weiss hissed out, clenching her fists and glaring at the floor. “No we didn’t nearly _do_ anything.” 

“You _can’t_ deny it, you can’t say it didn’t almost happen because it nearly _did_.” Ruby looked on the verge of exploding, in tears or in anger Weiss couldn’t say. 

Weiss felt her face contort into an expression of pain, an image of what it was like inside of her mind—a window to her soul—before she hid it away. She swallowed, her throat raspy and her shoulders shaking. “...I don’t know what you want from me.” Weiss revealed quietly. “I don’t _know_, Ruby.”

“What I’ve always wanted.” Ruby whispered softly, inching forward. Not enough to make Weiss move away, but enough so that they got a good look at each other’s faces.

“And what is that, exactly?” Weiss retorted, a bitter chuckle on the edge of her lips, just on the cusp of fleeing her mouth. She felt… she didn’t know. What was Ruby trying to tell her? What was she trying to say? Did she… did she want to make sure that Weiss knew that she didn’t feel the same? Was she here to apologize? What was she trying to _do_?

“I… I want…” The words seemed lodged in Ruby’s throat, and Weiss feared that if she tried any harder the other woman might choke on them. 

It’s then, at that moment, watching Ruby struggle on what she needed to say—that the dark and angry bubble in her chest finally popped.

“Oh? Choked up, darling?” Weiss sneered, rage consuming her so thoroughly that she could not feel the fear inside her any longer, that the burn of her anger melted away the layers of frost that had begun to build inside and around her. “No, don't stop talking on my account, spit it out or say nothing at all, it changes absolutely nothing, for there is no future that follows my descent into darkness.”

“_Wow_.” Ruby looked distinctly unimpressed. “You are such an _edgelord_ sometimes, do you have to be so dramatic all the time?”

And it’s the rage, that all consuming hungry hungry _rage_ that makes her brave, that makes her stupid enough to spit out the question that’s been branded into her mind—that she’d asked herself so often that the day she would forget would be the day she died. 

_“Do you regret it?”_

The words leave her lips, vile tasting on her tongue. There is a searing pain in the back of her throat as she said them, a distinct sharp stab of pain and disgust and something _else_ that makes Weiss nearly stagger under the weight of the suffering that follows her emotions—her inevitable aching release. 

“I… what?” The look on Ruby’s face, the _look_—is something that strikes her deep, something that she is proud and disgusted by, something that ruthlessly tears at her chest cavity—pulling apart her ribs and crushing them to brittle dust, taking apart her heart and squeezing until it is mush in the hands of emotion that she’d done her best to dull.

Weiss was so very angry. (_So very angry._)

“Was it a mistake for you, what you—I mean, when you ended things, was it a mistake?” She asked, her eyes sharp and teeth bared. A wolf lived in her smile, primal and rumbling—incensed and wrathful.

“I… I don’t know.” Ruby said this as though it was an answer, as though it would actually soothe the beast that has awoken from the inside of Weiss’ soul. 

(But nothing could appease that monster in this moment, nothing at all—not her sadness, not her happiness, not her endless disgust or anger—Weiss was on her own.)

“Alright, that’s all I needed.” Because it was, because Ruby’s indecision was enough for her to push herself over the edge, to hide away her true face from the other’s around her. Because she was going to be better, and she _didn’t_ need Ruby Rose for that, didn’t need Ruby Rose around for the healing of her blighted soul.

(Though, a traitorous voice in the back of her mind, Ruby Rose would certainly make it easier.)

“Wait—Weiss, hey wait—” She’s scrambling forward, as though she could sense the decision that Weiss had just made, as though she could fight against the pain and suffering in her heart.

Well she _can’t_.

(And nothing would change that. _Nothing_.)

“Really, that was all I needed.” Weiss said, her voice deceptively calm—though doing nothing to hide the rapid trembling of her shoulders. “I just wanted to hear you say it, that you didn’t know, I just needed to hear it for myself.” She spun, making her way to the door and wrenching it open, gesturing for Ruby to let herself out.

“Wait!” Ruby scrambled forward. “Wait! Weiss, please!”

The way she says it, as though she begs for something beyond her, as though she was on her knees in the face of something bigger—as though Weiss was something divine, as though Ruby was _desperate_ to get her to listen—makes her pause. She hates that, she realized, hates that Ruby despairing and wanting, sounding so wrecked could make her halt—could make her slow down to the point where she would be willing to listen to something she previously wasn’t.

She hated that, really.

But she takes a moment to stop anyway, to take a moment and allow the conversation to continue.

“Ruby, I refuse to listen to _this_, to your indecision—I… I made mistakes, many more than you will ever know of, many more than I believe I will ever _want_ you to know of—” Weiss grimaced at the sadness in her tone, the _weakness_. “—but I cannot punish myself here any longer.” Her voice was soft, a slow type of tone that made her want to claw her own throat out, ashamed by the fragility of everything that came out of her mouth. 

“What are you saying?” Ruby asked quietly, and it’s with a heavy heart that Weiss realized she was sniffling, rubbing at her flushed face and trying to stem the flow of tears.

“I need…” Weiss closed her eyes, turning away. The anger is still there, still raw and all encompassing, still drowning her in a sea of endless regret and pain and she cannot _breathe_— 

(But did it matter that she was drowning, did it matter in the face of all this pain and suffering and death? Her father had killed, had continued killing, and instead of helping—of doing something—here she was, suffocating in the face of the woman she loved, the woman who used to love her.)

“I need time, _real_ time.” Weiss found herself whispering, “Time with a _real_ reason as to why I need it—something that you can say out loud, something that makes sense.” She clenched her teeth, reaching up and grabbing at her face in despair. She was in so much pain, so much—and still here she was, begging for more when Ruby inevitably refused. “I want a reason, Ruby Rose, so I can allow myself a moment of reprieve in this… cursed web of _unknowing_ that you have me trapped in, and if you still even slightly give a damn about me you’ll give it.”

“A reason for what?” Ruby’s words were slow, slathered in honey but still bitter to Weiss, who had been hoping and praying that she might indulge her.

“Ah, so that is how it is?” The laugh that bubbled up in her throat burned with sin, burned with the knowledge that she would be ignorant, burned with her scorned pride. “I understand, and I will not sully your mind with my presence any longer.” She gestured once more to the open door, and hoped that Ruby would be kind enough to leave.

(She should have known better than to hope for anything.)

“Wait—” And Ruby is close, gentle taking her hand from the doorknob, hesitantly holding it in her palms, pleading for something that Weiss didn’t understand.

Frost comes, climbs up the back of her neck with the fear that accompanies Ruby’s skin on hers, the fear of consequence and pain; the fear that would not breed courage, but only more cowardice.

“Let _go_ of me.” Weiss whispered, her voice deceptively calm.

Ruby obeyed immediately, and her hand burned where she had cradled it. There’s _still_ that look on Ruby’s face, that _pain_ and that _wanting_ and that _earnestness_ that Weiss doesn’t know what to do with.

(And somehow, with her mind painted clear as day on her face, Ruby Rose still looked so effortlessly beautiful.)

“I was _afraid_.” The admission is quiet, and the only thing that Weiss hears other than Ruby’s voice is the thundering of blood rushing in her ears.

(“_Fear begets bravery._”)

Winter had been wrong.

(Except Winter hadn't been, because she had said under the right circumstances fear begets bravery, and there was nothing _right_ about this situation—there was nothing right about all of this _at all_.)

“Is that so?” Her voice shook, wobbly and weak. Fearful.

“Yes.” Ruby nodded, her hair falling into her eyes as she bowed her head. “I was terrified.”

“Well,” Weiss started, “you weren’t the only one.”

“I was afraid of everything that was around us…” Ruby continued softly, reaching a hand up to wipe away the tears that had begun to stream down her cheeks. “Salem, she…”

Weiss goes stiff at the name, uttered so quietly, so _fearfully_.

And maybe Weiss thinks that she should be moving forward, should be drawing the woman she loves into her arms, should be comforting and loving and helping—and it pains her more than anything when she realizes it isn’t her place to do that anymore. 

“You don’t have to tell me about Salem, Ruby.” Weiss said quietly. “She’s not who I asked—”

“But it was what you asked, the reason...” Ruby shook her head, falling backward a little bit, leaning against the wall defeatedly. “Her, I mean, she got me thinking, and suddenly I wasn’t good enough—for much of anything.”

Weiss takes a moment to respond, to process what Ruby had just told her.

And she closed the door.

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked, her voice not quite soft—not quite kind, but inviting all the same.

“We got her in the end, we got her to… _leave_.” Ruby shuddered, pressing her cheek against the wall and looking away. “But the things she did, the war we had to fight in, they sort of just got _stuck_ to me. It was like every time I thought about her another little needle would stab me somewhere, and I was too afraid and too sad to do anything about it, to tell anyone about it—and you were so…” Ruby trailed off, smiling weakly, her voice breaking in such a way that had Weiss’ heart jerking. 

“So what?” She asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the opposite wall of the hallway that led to the door. 

“I don’t know.” Ruby looked up at that ceiling, closing her eyes and letting out a deep rumbling sound that made Weiss ache. She slid down the wall slowly, her eyes still closed and her face still looking up at the ceiling, the perfect picture of anguish. 

Weiss unconsciously mirrored her actions, except instead of allowing her legs to extend she drew them tightly to her chest. “You do, you do know, so you ought to tell me—or at least admit to me that you have a reason so I could calm down again, so I don’t leave this place worse than I came.”

“You loved me.” Ruby said mournfully, as though she was talking about someone who died, about something that wasn’t there anymore. To Ruby, it _was_ as though she was talking about something that was gone forever, because she didn’t know that Weiss loved her, she didn’t know that Weiss still felt the same.

(And it’s a strange thing, to mourn the loss of a feeling, to mourn the loss of fondness and warmth. It’s a strange thing indeed.)

“Of course.” Weiss fought down the blood that rushed into her face and tried not to sound indignant. “Your point?”

“You loved me so much and I was just so afraid to hurt you, so afraid that you were expecting a part of me that didn’t exist, that the second things calmed down you’d _see_ me and I wouldn’t be enough.” Ruby admitted with a soft smile, the type that came with hopelessness, when coming to face with the end of the world.

And Weiss was angry.

(But this time, it wasn’t the type of rage that wanted to consume everything around her, wasn’t the type of rage that wanted to hurt and _eat eat eat_ when it _burned burned burned_—it was just plain old fashioned anger, the type that came when someone didn’t love themselves enough to see that they were cared for. The type of anger that was soft and frustrating and so very _depressing_. The type of anger that got on Weiss’ nerves more than any other type, if only because it was Ruby who was making her feel like this, if only because Ruby was the one feeling worthless.)

_Oh_. Weiss thought. _She’s more depressed than she allows anyone else to see_.

(And why was that so familiar?)

“I was with you for _two_ _years_ after everything Ruby.” Her voice was very quiet, assuring.

“I know! Okay, I _know_!” Ruby retorted, her head snapping from the away from the ceiling to look back at Weiss. But I was afraid—and I didn’t know what to do or what was going on and everything was hurting me and you were just there and so _loving_ I didn’t—I couldn’t—” The tears were coming down faster now.

“I… I’m sorry Ruby.” Because she was (because she _is_) and she doesn’t know what to do in the face of someone so unshakable sobbing, she doesn't know what to do in the face of the disintegration of stone—the rapid erosion of a stoic mountain range.

“No, I’m sorry, okay?” Ruby said, sounding as though she was fighting back against something. “I loved you Weiss, _really_ I did—you have to believe that I loved you, until the last second we were together you always had a home in my heart.”

Something squirmed in her chest, cold and angry and sad and so _many_ other emotions that she doesn’t have the time or patience to identify the name of. Because Ruby had loved her, because Ruby had said these things, because she had that Weiss had a _home_ there, with her—because Weiss couldn’t believe her, couldn’t believe the things she was hearing and at the same time she so desperately wanted to. 

(She so desperately wanted Ruby to love her.)

“It’s… I can’t say it's okay, because it’s not, and I was hurt for a really long time—I’m _still_ hurt, alright?” Weiss said after a moment, turning away from Ruby’s face. “Everything, all the little hints and signs—it _hurts_ Ruby, like I’m burning from the inside out.” She closed her eyes, playing with the material of her skirt.

“I never meant to hurt you, I just thought… well, I just thought that things would be better if i had the time, to take a moment to breathe—but then a year had gone by, and I figured that you would’ve found someone better, someone who could stand to look at you without wanting to break down, and I couldn’t find myself trying to talk to you because it hit me that I had broken your heart and that you didn't deserve that.”

The way she said it, shouldering the blame for everything around them, thinking that it was her fault. 

It made Weiss angry.

(But she was beginning to understand that she was always angry, these days, always raging for something or another—always feeling wrathful for a cause or a person or herself.)

“Ruby.” Weiss said, stern and serious. “I am _not_ blameless.”

“I… what?” The look of shock on her face could cause the divine to weep, arch angels and cherubs to fall to the floor in such a gripping and powerful despair that not even their guardian could ever convince them to come out of it.

“I did wrong too. I… I froze, Ruby.” And how ironic that was, that she had gone stiff and cold long before her father had ever dared to lay a finger on her. “I froze on you, all the time and it was no wonder that you didn’t think you could talk to me about these things because I just kept getting shrouded by ice every time you looked at me and I—”

“What?” Ruby blinked, shocked out of her haze. “You… You just had a hard time opening up to people, Weiss, you didn’t have to—”

“But I did! I was able to do it eventually, I probably could’ve done it if I had tried with you! Think, Sun, Neptune—I could’ve done it for you if I tried Ruby, I could’ve been better for you, you _deserved_ better and I was—I wasn’t good enough _either_.” Because if Ruby, in her endless love and patience, decided that she wasn’t good enough for Weiss, then there was no way in all of Remnant that Weiss was good enough for Ruby.

It’s silent, both of them staring at each other, their gazes determined and fiery. 

“That isn’t true.” Ruby said, wiping the tears from her eyes and scooting a little closer. “You don’t actually believe that’s true, do you?”

“What?” Weiss asked, a tad more defensively than she’d meant to.

“You were more than enough.” Ruby insisted. “You never had to force yourself to share everything with me, I wanted all you were willing to give, nothing more.”

Reality itself may as well have shattered. 

Weiss had spent so much time, _so much time_, convincing herself that she could have done _more_, that she could’ve been _enough_. To have Ruby look at her, look at her and say with such certainty that she had been fine, that she had been substantial—hurt more than she ever thought it could. Ruby had said that she was afraid, said that Weiss had been so loving—and Weiss had thought that things had changed because Weiss hadn’t loved enough, because even though she had so little to give she’d relentlessly shared all she could, she’d given away more parts of herself than she had.

And in the end, all that didn’t even matter?

“Ruby. Ruby that—” Her eyes burn, and she burrows her face into her knees, aware of the way that something akin to fear surges in her veins, aware that her tears freeze as they squeeze out of her eyes. 

Fear. Weiss knows now. Fear is the common denominator, fear is what makes people act the way they do.

Fear is what makes the things around her freeze. 

“Weiss, hey—don’t cry, it’s alright.” Ruby is close now, scrambling on her hands and knees to sit next to Weiss and offer her some comfort. Their shoulders and legs brush, but Ruby doesn’t move any further—she won’t do anything until Weiss is alright with it.

Weiss fears she may fall in love with her more, in that moment.

“It’s not.” She heard herself say. “It’s not because I loved you, I loved you more than I ever thought I could love someone, and we both got caught up in insecurity to the point where you thought that you had to—that you had to—”

_Leave me._

But the truth was that Ruby had come home one day, her expression set and grimm, she had come home to Weiss—who had just gotten off the phone with her sister, who had just learned that her father had been acting differently than usual. The truth was that Ruby had come home that day, and had said straight away that they couldn’t do this anymore, that Ruby couldn’t love her anymore, and before Ruby could say anything else (before she could supply an explanation) Weiss had gone cold, and asked her for a minute to get her things.

But the truth was that they had left each other—and wasn’t that _infinitely_ more romantic than before? A bitter voice asked her. Wasn’t it much more poetic for them to have had similar problems, for them to leave each other—Weiss who had accepted the end with little more than a nod, and Ruby who had not known how to properly convey how important Weiss still was to her. And wasn’t that strange? That Weiss, stubborn and hardheaded and in love, had given up so easily? Had laid down her right to love Ruby, had laid down her heart and hidden her feelings away in her rib cage—trapped in a messy prison of bone and muscle and blood. 

And wasn’t that so odd? So confusing? And wasn’t that so _strange_?

But it wasn’t, because Weiss had always had a lingering fear that Ruby would wake up one day and decide that was it, had always had that notion that something wasn’t right with all her happiness, that she was the wrong person in the wrong time—that maybe she was missing out on something everyone else seemed to see.

“Weiss?” Ruby asked, interrupting her thought process.

Weiss sighed, leaning a little into Ruby’s shoulder, saying nothing when an arm hesitantly wrapped itself around her.

“I don’t think I should've dumped you.” 

“Oh my—_Ruby_!” Her head snapped to the side, looking at the other woman with an expression full of shock.

“What?” She asked, also turning to face Weiss, a curious expression on her tearstained face.

“_Dumped_, seriously?”

“Well…” Ruby paused. “Isn’t that what I did?”

“Did you have to put it so crassly?” Weiss grumbled. She knew that she herself had referred to it as a ‘dumping’ but hearing it like that from Ruby herself tugged on her chest in a way that left her monumentally uncomfortable. “It sounds like we were two seventeen year olds breaking up after one of us refused to put out or something.”

“_Put out_?” It was Ruby’s turn to look surprised. “Weiss, have you been hanging out too much with Sun and Neptune? The fact that you’re even mentioning sex at all—”

“Alright, I get it.” Weiss tried to interject.

“No seriously, ‘_put out_’ are you actually seventeen? Did you go back in time when I wasn’t looking? Nah, when you were seventeen if someone even alluded to sex around you you’d go all pink—yeah, like that!”

“Ruby please do _not_.” She flushed, attempting to hide the redness in her cheeks. 

“Whatever, the point is, maybe I should have just tried and talked to you before immediately going to… _dump_ you.” Ruby’s grip on her tightened for a moment, before loosening again. 

“Maybe, but do you think that would have made a big difference?” Weiss asked hesitantly. She turned her head away, looking down at her knees. 

“What do you mean?” She didn’t need to see her to know that Ruby was frowning.

“You said that you were sure you needed time apart.” Weiss explained quietly. “What if you weren’t wrong?”

Because she didn’t think that Ruby was wrong to need space, she didn’t think that Ruby was wrong in that aspect. Even if it hurt, even if Weiss couldn’t completely understand it, Ruby had said she needed it… that time, and who was Weiss to keep things from the woman she loved?

“You…” Ruby paused, a frown tugging at the edges of her expression. “Do you think our relationship ending was a good thing?”

Weiss released a sigh, the anger under her skin was simering down now, the only remnants of it the faint taste of rage that burned bitter on the back of her tongue. “For you, I think it was…” She shut her eyes wearily, distantly aware of the tears that still lay frozen on her face. “I don’t think I’m a good influence on you at all, Ruby Rose, no matter how hard I try to be.”

It was quiet again, more surprised silence settling over the both of them like a shroud—easily wrapping them up and hiding them away from the outside world.For a moment, Weiss feared that Ruby would say nothing, she feared that they would stay like that; enveloped in that heavy sense of quiet that tugged her shoulder’s down so far they may have slipped off. 

“That’s pants.” Ruby said, her voice a spark full of _something_ that Weiss couldn’t identify.

“What?”

“I said that’s _pants_.” Ruby nearly snarled, turning them both so that they were looking each other in the eye, silver meeting ice blue. “I mean _you_? Not being a good influence? I think the world would actually _end_ before that happened.”

Weiss stared, her eyes slowly growing wider, before managing to choke out, “The world _has_ ended.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Ruby rolled her eyes. “_This_ world, this world would have to end, the one in front of us—the one we exist in.”

How could she make her words sound that way? As though she was speaking to the last person in Remnant, as though the only person she could actually _see_ was Weiss? 

(“_Fear_ begets _Bravery_.” Winter had said. How had her sister known that?)

“That’s being arranged as we speak.” Weiss shook of the thoughts, averting her gaze.

“What?” Ruby recoiled a little.

“My father.” She explained. “I know it’s… ghastly, but I fear that is exactly what he plans to do, to shatter the remnants of reality we have left, to leave things an endless cesspool of nothing but pain and bitterness.”

“Weiss—”

“Ruby, I’m willing to do anything to make sure he can’t hurt anyone ever again.” Her tone went serious, and for a brief moment she wondered what she was trying to accomplish, telling her something Weiss was sure that Ruby already knew.

“I know.” She said softly, because of course she did, because Ruby knew a lot of things; Weiss Schnee was one of them. 

“I just…” Weiss closed her eyes up tight, bowing her head and allowing her body to momentarily tremble. “I just needed to make sure.”

To make sure that Ruby knew how desperate she was, how ruthless she was willing to be. To make sure that Ruby would still want to be around her afterwards, to make sure that Weiss didn’t drive her away. There were millions upon millions of things that she was trying to make sure of, in that moment, billions upon billions, trillions upon trillions; but the only real reason she could make out was that she didn’t want Ruby to leave again.

(_Would Ruby leave again?_)

“Can’t we talk about this? About us, without worrying about him?” _Without worrying that one of us would leave_? Went unsaid, but Weiss heard it come from her lips anyway.

(They had been partners, after all.)

“I’ve worried about the will of my father from the moment I was born, Ruby—and I will worry about him after he’s gone, I can’t just rid myself of his poison so easily, no matter how much I wish to.” She revealed quietly, her eyes remaining shut, as though with that simple action she’d never have to face the complicated knot of emotions that centered itself in her chest and tangled itself with her veins and muscles and bones. 

(That intermingled with the area her heart should be.)

“I… I think I might get it.” Ruby said after a moment, gently swiping her fingers at the frozen tears on Weiss’ face.

“Oh?”

“Yeah…” One of her hands cupped Weiss’ jaw, her thumb brushing away the amalgamations of tears and frost that hadn't melted away yet. “I mean, you’re afraid of what someone might do or what someone has done for so long that even when they aren’t in your life anymore you can’t help but worry.” Ruby paused, her fingers stopping their stroking. “...does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Weiss said after a moment, her voice choked. “Yes, it does.”

(Because _of course_ it did, because of course Ruby _understood_—of course Ruby _wanted_ to.)

“Weiss? I… I want to tell you something.” Ruby took a deep breath, and the way that her voice wobbled finally made Weiss open up her eyes.

Ruby looked… scared.

“Alright.” Weiss said. “You can tell me.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Another heavy silence.

Weiss couldn’t even begin to articulate what was going on inside her mind, couldn’t even begin to tell if she was enthralled in the cruel claws of _despair_ or the gentle hands of pure _elation_. Ruby _loved_ her, Ruby was _in love_ with her. With Weiss. Blood rushed into her head, resulting in the thunderous pounding of her ears. She wondered if she was hallucinating, if Ruby had said something else and Weiss had heard the word _‘love’_ by mistake. 

Ruby fidgeted, shrinking under the weight of Weiss’ stare. There was a burning in the back of her eyes, a determination that flared even as she retreated under the incredulous look on Weiss’ face. _She looked beautiful_, a voice in the back of her mind chirped, like every goddess of war rolled into one. Like the human personification of an emotion or feeling Weiss still couldn’t identify no matter how hard she tried to, but beautiful enough for her lack of understanding not to matter in the face of Ruby Rose’s loveliness.

“You’re… you’re what?” Weiss tripped over her words, shock slurring her words so badly it was a wonder Ruby even understood what she was trying to say.

“In love.” Ruby clarified, face reddening. “I’m in love with you—I never stopped loving you.”

“Ruby—Ruby you can’t just _say_ that, you can’t just—!” Because no matter how happy Weiss was to hear the words there was a _time_ and a _place_ for these things; and Weiss didn’t think that time and place was now, in her hotel room as she worked to keep her mind of the fact that Winter hadn’t come up with anything yet.

“I know, Weiss. I know that it might be wrong of me, that it might be a little too soon, but I… I love you and I will continue to love you for as long as I live.” Ruby stumbled over the words, but her tone was fierce and deadly serious. “And I know that you probably don’t feel the same, and that when you did love me I didn’t deserve it—”

“You are _such_ a dunce.” The words slip from Weiss’ mouth easier than breathing. “Didn’t I _just_ tell you that you deserved _better_ than me?”

“I… what?” Ruby looked utterly perplexed. “What does that have to do with it?”

(Oh _dust_ Weiss was in love with an _idiot_.)

“How could you think I could never love you?” She asked her, the question escaping her mouth in a dangerously annoyed tone. “How could you think that you couldn’t _deserve_ it? Ruby Rose, you are one of the people in this world that deserve _goodness_, that deserve _love_.”

And how could she not see that?

“What… What do you mean?” Her voice was wobbly, and it took Weiss a second to notice that Ruby was crying again.

“What do you think?” Weiss asked with a roll of her eyes. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to get away, to run and scream and hide, every part of her was afraid. She felt like a cornered animal, and a part of her was desperate to fight back against the part of her that decided to stay—but she’d had a lifetime of fighting against herself, had lived her life in turmoil and anger and pain, and she was done with that, no matter the consequences.

_(“In the right circumstances, fear begets bravery.”)_

Weiss supposed that she was finally in the right circumstance. Weiss supposed it was high time she did something courageous. 

“I um…” Ruby scrambled. “I don’t know?”

“Then allow me to clarify.” Weiss leaned forward, cupping Ruby’s face in her hands and wiping away the tears that had accumulated on her cheeks, her unusually bare hands brushing away at the wetness under her eyes. “I’m in _love_ with you.”

Her admission is quiet compared to Ruby’s, full of the type of warmth that could melt even the coldest of hearts. It isn’t as earnest, isn’t as desperate, but it’s _something_—it’s there and it’s been said and now Ruby _knows_ and if not for the fact that she had finally accepted her fear as a part of herself she would be sure that everything around her would be frozen, encased in ice and as cold as she had attempted to become.

“You, uh, you really love me?” The way she said it, her astonishment, as though she could never imagine Weiss feeling the same—made silent tears slip from her eyes and down her face.

“Yes.” Weiss whispered against her forehead, carefully drawing Ruby close. “Yes I never stopped—and it’s been wonderful to see you again, wonderful to have you at any capacity you were willing to give me.” Ruby laid her head on against Weiss’ shoulder, and the scent of strawberries and roses washed out the smell of snow that had lingered on her body like a shroud, and Weiss had never been more thankful.

“There’s a ‘but’ there, right?” Ruby mumbled into her dress shirt, “I feel like there’s a but.”

“Sort of.” Weiss admitted, twitching awkwardly, only just realizing that Ruby was _very_ close to her. “Ruby I love you, truly. But why are you telling me all of this? Why are you so adamant on my knowing your feelings? I thought that you wanted… I thought that you didn’t want me there for you like that.”

“I was afraid.” Ruby admitted quietly, the repetition making her turn her face into Weiss neck.

“‘Fear begets bravery.’” Weiss quoted softly, forcing herself not to panic at the feel of her so close. “So you’ve decided to take a leap of faith, is that it?”

“I just… I needed you to know.” Ruby let out a shuddering sigh. “I wanted you to know that I loved you, as selfish as it sounds.”

“It isn’t selfish to want your feelings to be heard.” Weiss said, her voice hushed and serious. “It isn’t wrong to want to tell people how they make you feel, to hope that you make them feel the same.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” Weiss uttered, lovingly brushing a bit of hair out of Ruby’s face. “But you were supposed to know that already.”

“I just wanted to hear you comfort me.” Mumbled Ruby. “It’s nice… I missed it.” She wrapped her arms around Weiss’ stomach, further burrowing her face in her neck. “I missed _you_.”

“Did you?” Weiss asked through a watery chuckle. “What a coincidence, I missed you too."

They stayed there, wrapped up in each other, for hours and hours to come. When Weiss couldn’t kneel any more, instead of getting up she layed on the floor, and only a moment after Ruby followed, gripping her hand sighing into her shoulder.

(“_Fear begets bravery_.” Winter had said knowingly. Weiss reminded herself to thank her sister the next time she saw her, to tell her that she had been correct.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh lawd!!! they didn't kiss,,, but they did do something else!!!! bit of fluff, bit of angst... but hey they love each other!!! which everyone knew but them!!!! originally i wanted to end the chapter with ruby saying i love you and not giving weiss a chance to respond, but i decided to be a little less cruel than usual
> 
> anyway, a different summary of this chapter could also be 'weiss gets pissed the fuck off but that's not exactly anything new'
> 
> I also came up with the "fear begets bravery" thing in the middle of writing this chapter and I was like "shit that's gonna stick with me, i can't be a coward anymore"


	12. felling any foe with my gaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of Weiss’ features seemed to be like that, strong and straight, with a long face and linear facial features. Her handsomeness was offset by the plumpness of her lips, the curve of her smile—the gentleness in her sharp eyes and cheekbones. Ruby always thought that was kind of funny, the way that most of Weiss’ facial features were so solid—shaped and square—but one smile seemed to take away the distinctness of it all, softening her expression and taking Ruby’s breath away. There was a beauty to her, a gentleness in the purse of her lips, the slope of her neck. Weiss was so strong, a vision in everything she set out to do, her actions filled with grace and purpose. 
> 
> There was a question just on the tip of Ruby’s tongue, a query that she was sure only the twin gods could ever come close to answering. Just how was she so handsome? So beautiful? How was she both of those things at the same time? Soft and hard, her rough and rounded edges and lovely and cruel smile. 
> 
> Or;
> 
> In her mouth lived a wolf, but even often monstrous as they were they could be elegant creatures, beautiful in the face of their bloody maws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Ruby Rose is super gay for Weiss Schnee, oh and also some plot because i accidentally made one of those without thinking about it too much
> 
> oh and beware the douche dad alert!!! jacques schnee is not a cool dude, when i was thinking of some of the stuff he was gonna say the only thought that was going through my mind was, 'okay, boomer' so do with that what you will, also every time he said something i wanted weiss to call him a 'punk ass bitch' but it wasn't exactly in character,,,, so,,,,

_Weiss was warm against her body. _ It’s that thought that Ruby keeps going back to, that thought is the one that keeps rebounding in her mind, rattling her skull and turning her brain into pulverised mush. She could barely comprehend anything around her, couldn’t hear or feel anything that wasn’t the woman she was curled up against, because Weiss was warm against her body—and she was soft, and she smelled of freshly fallen snow and the vanilla and lavender perfume that she’d worn since Beacon. Ruby’s arms were wrapped around her stomach, her face buried in the juncture of her neck as she breathed against her. 

Once again her thoughts looped, the repeated statements of fact a repetition—as though if Ruby pondered them enough she might actually be able to think of something else.

_Weiss was warm._

_Weiss was cuddled up against her._

_Weiss smelled... really nice._

Ruby wanted to cry, a little. She’d missed her, this woman who was holding her like some type of lifeline, missed her like the air she needed to breathe—as though Ruby was drowning, and Weiss was the breath of fresh air she’d so desperately needed to keep herself alive. She’d missed her with all of her being, like she missed the warmth on a cold night, like that two second desperation of searching for a blanket while half asleep. 

There was an ache in Ruby’s chest, in her very soul, that throbbed uncomfortably with each second that passed intertwined with Weiss this way. They were so close to each other, holding each other so intimately that there was a lingering fear that Ruby may be burned with the warmth that Weiss seemed to be radiating. She almost couldn’t stand it, and her hands were desperate against her body, clenching at Weiss’ clothing, stilled by the fear of messing up what little they’d managed to accomplish in this moment. 

Love bloomed inside of her like a flower, Ruby thought distantly—burrowing her face ever so deeper into the juncture between Weiss’ shoulder and neck. The only issue with that analogy was that the bud that was her heart was being rapidly wrenched open—pulled so desperately into existence that Ruby felt she needed a moment to gather her breathing, to make sure that her lungs were still working properly. In her mind she cradled that flower, the one that represented her love for Weiss, close to her chest. 

Perhaps it hadn’t bloomed so quickly, Ruby thought, perhaps it had been there—waiting for Ruby to notice it, and when she had it had felt as though it had bloomed in the instant her eyes had lay upon it. Ruby had known that she loved Weiss of course, but there was something different about knowing the emotion existed and being able to actually express it—to have it expressed back to her. This thought brought all sorts of half processed emotion to the forefront of her mind and she feared that if she opened her mouth only the keening noises and whispers of desperation would escape her, and Weiss would know just how deeply what they were doing affected her. She feared that Weiss would know just how vast Ruby’s love for her was, a rapidly blooming flower under the clinical hands of someone who might not realize just how badly they had a hold on her.

She knew of course that they had _both_ just confessed that they loved each other, but Ruby still didn’t know just how willing Weiss would be in exploring that, especially with the enemies that still surrounded them in these hastily stolen moments they shared with one another. They had all the time in the world now, of course, but Ruby could hardly bring herself to wait—could hardly bring herself to pull back. Just one reason why she was clinging to Weiss so achingly, her actions almost tainted by the desire and yearning that were slathered all over her unwilling hands and mouth.

Ruby could scarcely move, frightened and so, _so_ in love. 

She wanted to _press_, wanted to engulf and become—wanted to deviate from the action of silencing and suppressing the love that had so easily overwhelmed her. It would be so easy, so easy to cradle Weiss’ face in her hands, to rub her thumbs over the scars—over the smoothness of her chest and allow the tips of her finger to gently kiss the fluttering of her eyelashes. A ragged breath escaped her punished lungs, and the warmth in Ruby’s chest started to extend farther throughout her body. She gripped at Weiss a little tighter, her fists bunching up the pristine clothes that she was wearing.

“Ruby.” Weiss whispered, and one of her hands traveled from her lower back up to her shoulder, before finally framing her cheek in a scarred palm. The action sent shivers down Ruby’s spine, and she became aware that throughout the motion Weiss’ hand hadn’t left her body, her fingers trailing upward as though they couldn’t quite tear themselves away from her. That only made the burning so much _worse_. “What’s the matter?”

Weiss could probably _feel_ her holding back, feel her stiffness, feel the desperation that was in every small movement Ruby allowed herself to make.

“You’re...” Ruby couldn’t quite voice her thoughts properly, a bit of a slur impacting her words as her lips brushed against the slope of Weiss’ neck. She could feel the steady thrum of her pulse through her mouth, causing something fiery to surge through her body—settling in her chest and stomach. She wrapped her arms tighter around Weiss, a desperate motion that made her partner hum in appreciation and curiosity. “You’re just _really_ warm.” 

Weiss laughed, her shoulders jutting a bit, the sound was full—extending throughout the room. Ruby could feel the way that Weiss laughed with all of her, her throat thrown back—extended so far that Ruby felt her mouth dry—Weiss’ arms tightened around her, legs reaching out a little as the sound of surprised giggles slipped from her mouth. Ruby’s breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed nervously as she nosed at Weiss’ collarbones. 

(She had forgotten what it was like to be in love with the sound of someone's laughter, and she knew that she never wanted that to happen ever again, she never wanted to forget that Weiss sounded like this—that the giggles that escaped her love’s mouth invoked such a powerful response in her.)

“I’m so sorry!” Weiss said, her words breathless as she apologized for the sounds of happiness that made Ruby’s heart beat three times faster. “It’s just been such a long time since someone has called me _warm_.” 

“You _are_.” Ruby whispered against her collarbones reverently. Her nose was cold against Weiss’ skin, a thought that made her appropriately dizzy. “So very warm.”

Weiss _was_ heat personified, she couldn’t quite _be_ anything else, not to Ruby. She burned and froze in equal measure, but there was something about the way that Weiss felt pressed up against her that spoke of _warmth_. It was as though her bones whispered the words in hushed and hesitant tones, her eyes and mouth and fingers flickering like a flame, dancing in the curve of her eyelids or lips or palms. She’d drum her fingers, eyelashes fluttering and mouth pursed, and she’d be heat—she’d be as far from what she believed cold to be as she could get. 

Ruby saw this, saw the way that Weiss looked down at her hands, scarred and long and pale, saw the way she’d look at them and think, _“I am the cold, I am the snow, I am the chill of winter and wrath—the fiery warmth of love would only snuff out in the face of my frozen fingers, of the frost that smothers my soul.” _

But Weiss was wrong, she was so very _wrong_—and Ruby had long since sworn to herself that she would prove it, that she would show her love just how warm she truly was—and it was an oath that had not yet been broken. There were words whispered in the crook of Weiss’ neck, words that were so true and had not been set free, words of love and fire and heat that couldn’t be contained by Weiss’ gentle self sacrifice. She’d find a way to set them free, to have Weiss hear them properly, to believe them as wholeheartedly as Ruby did herself.

_“You are the heat.”_ Something in her shoulders whispered, her spine and her ribs and her arms—the bones of them encased in a frozen block of muscle, working so tirelessly to burn away the frost. Steam slowly seeped from her skin as her muscles began to heat, to lose the chill that they had so desperately clung to. _“You are the warmth of sunlight and hot coals, the feverish and impulsive hope of summer—the cold of self-hatred may survive some time inside of you, but know that it is melting away with the frost that you say blankets your soul.”_

Ruby sighed into Weiss’ clavicle, nosing at the dips in the subtle jutting of bone that protruded from her body. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be the appropriate time to plant a very gentle kiss to her skin. Where would she put it, she wondered, perhaps the curve of her jaw? Or maybe the slope of her neck? Maybe she would press her lips to her collar bones, just to see if they felt softer against her mouth then her nose. Or maybe, just maybe, Ruby would press a kiss to Weiss’ lips, would feel the gentle slotting of her mouth—would have their breaths intermingle in a declaration of love and affection that would leave Ruby most certainly without air.

Ruby was suddenly very aware of the fact that she’d been thinking _very_ intimate things, and considered if she should share these things with Weiss. It wasn’t as though this was the first time she’d considered kissing Weiss, she’d thought about it a couple of times before, when they were in the Schnee’s grove for instance—though only then she’d manage to find the courage to gently press her lips to her forehead. She didn’t even _want_ to reminisce about the other times where she’d thought about it, it would only make her feel far more embarrassed then she thought she should be in this situation. After all, kissing was a totally natural part of life.

(Kissing _Weiss_, however, was _not_ a totally natural part of life—and that action should be considered as something much more divine than that, something that would await all the best of the best souls in the highest of heavens she could think of. It made sense that a brush of Weiss’ mouth against her own might be a reward cultivated by the powers that had created them, made sense that Ruby would be so intertwined with the woman she loved to see it this way.)

“What are you thinking about, beloved?” Weiss asked her quietly, her lips skimming the top of Ruby’s head, and the areas where she touched blazed. “You worry me, going so quiet so suddenly...” A teasing lilt in her voice, “It’s most unlike you.”

_Beloved?_

That was new, it was wonderfully new—a surprise that warmed her chest, extending throughout her body and making her eyelids feel heavy.

“You’re hilarious.” Ruby mumbled, trying not to look so obviously affected—trying not to let her feelings overwhelm her. She knew that if she slipped just once, nothing would stop her from doing something that neither were quite ready for. Her lips brushed against skin as she dragged herself upward a little bit, moving herself so that she was no longer facing Weiss’ collar bones but the curve of her jaw. Ruby nudged at it with her nose, getting her to turn away so that she could burrow herself just under the hard line. 

All of Weiss’ features seemed to be like that, strong and straight, with a long face and linear facial features. Her handsomeness was offset by the plumpness of her lips, the curve of her smile and chin—the gentleness in her sharp eyes and cheekbones. Ruby always thought that was kind of funny, the way that most of Weiss’ facial features were so solid—shaped and square—but one smile seemed to take away the distinctness of it all, softening her expression and taking Ruby’s breath away. There was a beauty to her, a gentleness in the purse of her lips, the slope of her neck. Weiss was so strong, a vision in everything she set out to do, her actions filled with grace and purpose. 

(And wasn’t that so funny, a woman whose face was undoubtedly divine, whose soul was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen, could think herself so detestable?)

There was a question just on the tip of Ruby’s tongue, a query that she was sure only the twin gods could ever come close to answering. Just how was she so handsome? So beautiful? How was she both of those things at the same time? Soft and hard, her rough and rounded edges and lovely and cruel smile. 

In her mouth lived a wolf, but even often monstrous as they were they could be elegant creatures, beautiful in the face of their bloody maws.

“Beloved.” Weiss whispered the term of endearment so ardently, and Ruby felt her heart clench in her chest. “You’re doing it again.” There’s no hiding the tone of worry in her voice now.

“I...” Ruby couldn’t quite say anything in return, not in the face of what Weiss had called her. Not in the name of _‘beloved’_ not after the great rumble of emotion that threatened to spill from her lips, that desperately clawed from her chest and wanted to be held so helplessly out of her ribcage. _Was she beloved?_ Was she so dearly loved that Weiss would call her this word, would deviate from the past _‘darlings’_ and _‘lovelys’_ and even the _‘dunces_.’

The warmth that filled her chest was criminal, the sound of _beloved_ escaping from Weiss’ mouth—the very obvious notion of love and fondness made Ruby feel indescribable warmth. And so Ruby Rose choked on that, on the love that was suddenly so very apparent, and so she choked on that—the sudden whispers of adoration that she hadn’t realized had always been lingering just beyond earshot, the looks of worship and reverence just out of line of sight.

“I love you.” She said, and though it was not the first time she’d said it, there was a certain amount of stress in the words—an overwhelming desire to make sure that the object of her affection knew just how much she was cared for readily apparent in those three little words, loaded with much more than they should be able to rightfully carry. “I was thinking that I love you.” Only of course she was leaving out a great deal of detail, not mentioning all the things she wished to do to Weiss, the things she wished Weiss would do to her—all of the emotions and feelings that accompanied the love that she’d felt for her.

Ruby pulls her head back slightly, settling her chin on Weiss’ shoulder, looking up to see her face.

(_Oh_. She finds herself thinking. _Words like handsome and beautiful simply will never be able to do this woman the justice she deserves._)

She watched quietly as color began to pool into Weiss’ fair cheeks, watched the way her nose scrunched up in that absolutely adorable look of embarrassment that made her eyes crinkle and brows furrow in indignation—as though Weiss was thinking ‘how dare you make me feel this way!’ 

It was cute.

(Oh _Remnant_ it was so adorable, it made Ruby want to press herself so deeply against Weiss that she would be unsure whose limbs were who, to the point where she wouldn’t know where she began and Weiss ended.)

“Oh.” Weiss grumbled, averting her gaze. Ruby’s heart pounded a little faster, and for a moment she feared that Weiss would be able to feel it against her. “Well, I’m sorry if I overstepped, I was only worried, and I... I love you too.”

Ruby grinned, leaning her head back into the relaxed state it was previously in. “I thought you might.” She paused, thinking to herself for a moment. “Hey, Weiss?”

“Yes, beloved?” The question, like honey from her partner’s lips, made her want to press her mouth against them over and over again. 

And there it was again, Ruby thought with a badly suppressed shiver. There was that thing she wanted to ask about. 

“I was only wondering—” With the fierceness of a thousand suns, “—when you came up with that pet name.” She could practically feel Weiss beginning to frown, so in her haste she began to word vomit. “I only meant because it felt really nice to hear from you and I guess I was just curious as to when you decided to that or why or maybe if you wanted to tell me—”

“Oh?” Weiss asked, and there was a quiet confidence in her tone that made Ruby feel warm all over. “Only _wondering_, were you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” She retorted, resisting the urge to uselessly pout. She failed of course, and when Weiss chanced a glance down at her, she was once again shaking with badly hidden laughter. Ruby only pouted harder in response, huffing and burying her face into the collar of Weiss’ shirt, blowing hot air on the slope of her neck as revenge.

Weiss made a choked noise, breathless spluttering escaping her mouth in words too incredulous for Ruby to make any sense of. “_Excuse_ me—”

Ruby cut her off with a giggle, “Shush.” 

Weiss closed her mouth abruptly, frowning with pink stained cheeks, and tried to look away.

_Cute_. Ruby thought, then shifted—wincing when she realized how hard it was to get truly comfortable. She was practically on top of Weiss, which meant she was squished against her body, hard with muscle and a surprising softness that meant Weiss probably hadn’t gone hunting in some time. The realization irked her a bit, Weiss had adored hunting in a different way then Ruby had, but she’d adored the action of slaying the creatures of darkness nonetheless. 

How hard was it for her, having to sit behind a desk all day, the only enemies the countless people that her father paid to harm her, the politicians, and the reckless companies?

Perhaps the wolf in Weiss’ smile had another purpose besides it’s twisted beauty.

(Wolves did protect their own, after all—they travelled in packs, didn’t they? Of course Weiss would embody this aspect of them too, of course Weiss would defend, of course she would tear into the people who were a danger to those she protected, to those she cared for.)

“We’ve been on the floor for a while.” Weiss interrupted the silence gently, a hand combing through Ruby’s hair. “Not that I mind, of course.” It was clear that she was beginning to panic a little, “Being close to you is always a treat, however—”

“Is your back starting to hurt?” Ruby asked worriedly, trying to ignore the smug smile that threatened to make it’s way known at Weiss’ unintentional rambling. “We can get up, if you want.” Despite her words, she felt arms tighten around her, and Ruby couldn’t quite hide the self-satisfied grin that split her face. “Oh, is that a no, then?”

“Shut up.” Weiss grumbled into her hair, pulling her closer. “I only wanted to know if you wanted to move somewhere else, not... not _stop_ being close...”

Ruby snorted, the woman she loved was usually so articulate. A mischievous grin began to twist her lips upward, there was little doubt that this was beginning to have an effect on Weiss as well.

Weiss grit her teeth, working her jaw and gently but quickly moving Ruby off of her. “Fine then.” She moved to sit up, beginning to stand.

“Hey, wait—” Ruby squeaked, grabbing at Weiss’ waist and drawing her back down, this time she was the big spoon, her partner's face pressed into her sternum. “Didn’t mean it like that, I was only teasing, promise.”

Weiss stilled for a moment, and Ruby was suddenly very aware of the fact that she’d pulled Weiss on top of her. A giddy feeling rumbled around in her chest when she felt her relax into the embrace, and Ruby felt her lips curve upwards into a bright smile that Weiss couldn’t see. 

_I love you._ Ruby thinks in that moment, Weiss’ body burning imprints into her own.

_I love you._ Ruby thinks later, when they’re inevitably forced to get up, when she places a flower box on the balcony when Weiss wasn’t looking, a warm throb in her chest at the thought of what might happen when her partner stumbled across them.

_I love you._ Ruby thinks when she leaves, her cheeks aching from all the smiling she’d been doing, a spot under her jawline smoldering from where Weiss’ lips had touched in a chaste kiss goodbye.

_I love you._ And Ruby knew that statement would never change from fact to fiction.

* * *

Weiss supposed she could wax poetic about Ruby for hours on end, could speak and think and cherish the idea of the woman that she was in love with. She knew that she cared for her, that she looked upon her more fondly then most people, and she knew that there would always be a part of her soul that would be more at home with Ruby then anyone else. If only she could find a way to voice the words, to whisper the endless adoration she felt to the object of her affection. Sure, she’d managed to say that she loved her, managed to convey the base for her overwhelming sentiment, but there was still so much more that Weiss felt that she ought to be able to say. 

She was moderately frustrated in herself, in the chill that had been so readily apparent inside of her, but Ruby... Ruby had told her that she was quite the opposite, she’d been told that she was _warm_.

(And it’d been so long since someone had called her that, had told her that she was anything but cold. It was no fault but her own, the blame lay with the sharpness of her eyes, the frost that grew from her fingertips at every flicker of emotion, the jagged edges of her words that were spun specifically to _hurt_.)

But Ruby had held onto her and felt nothing but warmth, had become dizzy and distracted with the warmth that had apparently radiated from Weiss’ body. Those words that Ruby spoke simply fanned the already rapidly growing flames of endearment that Weiss had felt for her, and done more than rekindled the love that had sparked to life with every look shared. 

That _love_, that fondness, was a wonderful feeling.

However, that didn’t stop the churning in her stomach, the claminess of her hands and weak shaking of her body as she was touched. It’d been a long time since someone had held onto her so tightly, and been so desperate for affection from her. Too long. The prolonged contact didn’t make Weiss uncomfortable, as a matter of fact she reveled in it, but it felt like a bit much too soon. She’d have to grow used to physical displays of intimacy, she knew that. 

It was a good problem to have, she decided. Weiss would much rather have a tiny issue with growing used to Ruby touching her then not have it at all.

She spent the next two days trying to settle her stomach, the strange churning that made it impossible to look at anyone else. Even though Weiss had received hugs and handshakes and all matters of physical affection from her friends, she still wasn’t exactly used to it. Any touch on her body was alien, and she believed the only reason that she’d managed to stay clinging to Ruby so long was because of the relief and adrenaline that had coursed through her veins throughout their encounter.

When she’d finally managed to settle herself, to breathe without that strange rattling in her chest, she got the call.

“We found him.” Winter said over the scroll, and Weiss could practically feel the desperate grip that her sister holds on her composure, a quiet hitch in her voice that sounds as though she was barely holding herself back from doing something she perceived as rash. But then Weiss realized exactly what she’d said, and something in her chest squeezes as the shock and disbelief surge through her body.

“You... what?” Weiss knew who she was talking about, knew what exactly Winter was saying, but she couldn’t get the disbelief out of her voice, couldn’t stop herself from making sure.

“We found him.” Winter repeated, her voice not as shaky this time. She cleared her throat, wary of showing weakness. “He’s held up in an abandoned warehouse, it used to be owned by one of your competitors... it’s sort of ironic, don’t you think?” Her sister’s voice went wistful now. “Ah, excuse my senseless rambling.”

Weiss sighed, deciding to obey Winter’s wishes. “How’d you come across his location?”

“Specialist Ebi.”

“Lucky him.” The sisters in unison, and Weiss felt something warm curl in her chest.

She felt herself smile, it’d been some time since she’d talked to Clover Ebi. In truth, she didn’t feel much of any sort of kinship with him, but it was always nice to talk to a man who respected her for her skill and loyalty then for the fact that she was the head of the SDC. Besides, it was funny when he and Qrow did their best to get on Winter’s nerves.

“Was Jacques actually seen inside?” Weiss asked, cuddling into the couch cushions. She knew that she’d have to rise to her feet soon—have to make an effort to help take down her father, but at that moment she was allowed a brief reprieve. 

(And it was a reprieve that everyone but her seemed to know that she so desperately needed, there was no doubt that if one of her friends found out she rested for only a small while before going out to help, she’d be subjected to a couple of disappointed expressions..)

“Yes.” Winter affirmed. “Though Branwen suspects he won’t be there for much longer, I disregarded his thoughts when Ebi insisted that it seemed as though Jacques was waiting for something.”

Weiss resisted the urge to snort. Sometimes it was obvious how little she thought of Qrow Branwen’s opinion. She pondered the situation for a moment, Jacques had to know that they were coming for him... just what exactly did he hope to accomplish when they arrived?

“Ah.” Weiss sighed after a moment. “So he thinks that we’ll bring it to him.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Winter confirmed quietly, something in her voice betraying the soft stoicness that she’d been trying to portray. She was much more bothered by the events surrounding her then she was trying to let on, and it made something in Weiss’ chest throb uncomfortably.

“It’s a trap.” Weiss pointed out softly.

“Most likely.” Winter agreed, her voice mirroring Weiss’ in gentleness.

There was a pause, and for a moment it was as though both of them were on the same wavelength. They understood each other at that second, exactly what they were about to do, but there was still a burning feeling in Weiss’ chest to make sure. She knew that Winter had a slightly different approach when it came to their father. Where Weiss would fight—head on and just as ruthless as him, Winter would probably use her position as general to get to him impersonally, to avoid having to actually look at him.

It wasn’t as though she could blame her for that, sometimes she wished that she could do that, to have someone take care of her father for her—but she couldn’t help but feel partly responsible for everything he’d done.

“Shall we go and see anyway?” Weiss asked.

“Darling sister, I thought you’d go regardless of my input?” Winter retorted.

Weiss grinned, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Ah, Winter do forgive me.”

“Don’t do anything rash.” Winter warned. “I wouldn’t be able to stand it if you left me alone with Whitley and Mother, how ever would I survive when neither wish to spar?”

“And when have I been known to do rash things?” Weiss asked, scoffing.

“Many a time.” Winter stated as a matter of fact, “Shall I pull out the comprehensive list?”

“I don’t believe you actually have a list.” She stated dubiously, frowning and drawing her knees closer to her chest.

“Well I do.” Winter sniffed haughtily. “It’s very long, full of stupid ideas and actions you’ve taken since birth.”

Weiss made a noise of protest in the back of her throat, and opened her mouth to fight back—only to realize that Winter was making sounds of badly hidden laughter. She sighed, “Teasing me?”

“Only a little.” Winter admitted shamelessly. 

“Have you informed Mother and Whitley?” Weiss asked quietly, rubbing a little at her neck.

“I... No, I was planning on contacting our brother after this call, as for Mother—”

“Would you like me to disclose the news to her?” Her voice was hesitant, shoulders squaring in preparation to whatever her sister decided. Winter went silent at Weiss’ interruption. A shaky breath at the other side of the call made Weiss close her eyes tiredly. Winter loved their mother, this much would always be true, but there was always going to be something skewed about their relationship. 

“I’d appreciate it.” Winter murmured. “She’s staying near you, yes?”

“That’s right.” Weiss nodded absentmindedly to herself. It wasn’t exactly something she could forget about. “She’s across the hall and everything, she keeps coming over and stealing my favorite foods.”

Winter released a badly hidden chortle, the sounds of her laughter obviously unexpected to both of them. Weiss felt herself smile, she hoped her sister felt a little bit better.

“I’ll send you the location.”

“Thank you.” Weiss said, sighing and standing. “I don’t think there’s much point in hurrying, if it’s a trap, so I’ll be there in about an hour or two...”

Winter snorted through the scroll. “You’re getting lazy.”

“Mhmm.” Weiss hummed, unaffected. “Maybe.” She huffed a small breath. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

“Don’t do anything rash.” Winter warned again right as she ended the call.

Weiss repeated the words mockingly under her breath, stretching out her arms with a frown on her face. It was a tad immature, but she couldn’t quite help it. “Honestly, Winter.” She scoffed to herself. “I’m not a child.”

She took a moment to breathe before gathering herself. Weiss knew that she would have to speak to her mother about this. She knew that her mother would change in the conversation—that her demeanor would become colder, harder, and that Weiss might not feel the hesitant comfort in their encounters as she had been before. She’d never felt totally at home with her mother, not for a good long while, but recently they’d been... well, not exactly _getting along_, but something close to it.

She couldn’t think of her mother at that moment, so instead of brooding over something that was no use in thinking about, she sent a message to an unknown number on her scroll. Weiss allowed herself the grim satisfaction of a smile when she got two thumbs up emojis in response. She looked out to the balcony, and grimaced when she realized that there was no avoiding her mother.

It would be difficult, she supposed, getting used to the chill that her mother would inevitably begin to radiate again. Weiss sighed, grabbing her coat and slipping it on to her shoulders before walking out to the balcony of her room, where her mother had no doubt was sitting. (She still came over everyday to sit and stare at a wine bottle, despite the strangeness of her expression and words when Ruby had been there.)

“Mother.” Weiss greeted softy, watching as Willow absentmindedly tapped her fingers on the clear rim of an empty glass of wine. 

It was a strange sight, seeing her mother without the subtle coloring of wine bruised on her lips, it made Weiss almost uncomfortable—still so unused to the sober vision of her mother. Sometimes she thought she’d rather have her mother still drinking, if only because she knew how to talk to her when she was drunk—sober Willow Schnee was strange, less talkative and more blatantly protective, a strange mixing of two traits that didn’t quite blend well together.

“Daughter.” Willow’s voice was a whisper in the Atlas wind. “Something has happened?”

Weiss smiled, but it was hesitant, a tad bitter. “Yes. Winter said that they—”

Willow held up a hand, shushing her. Weiss’ mouth fell closed, more out of surprise than any real feelings of obedience. Her mother’s lips curved upward at the silence, and she gestured to the small flower box that the balcony had, long white, red, and purple flowers dancing in the chilling wind. 

“_Hyacinths_.” Willow whispered in a soft tone, diverting from the language they had been previously speaking, her voice was strange—almost reverent. “_Beautiful, aren’t they? It’s been... some time since I’ve had a chance to properly see them._”

Weiss said nothing, suddenly feeling quite choked up. “Those weren’t... they weren’t there the last time I was out here.”

“No.” Willow agreed. “Miss Rose seems to have decided to comment on something between the two of you.” She paused, reaching out to brush her fingers on the purple petals of one of the flowers. “So she apologized?”

“Yes.” Weiss murmured.

A hand brushed against the red and white, a gesture that looked so gentle coming from her mother’s hands. “And you love each other?” She asked, “Her words were sincere?” There was a strange quality to her mother’s voice, almost protectiveness, but Weiss figured that she must have misheard.

“Yes.” 

Willow hummed, a palm settling over the red hyacinth once again. “It looks as though you’ve been invited to a game, my dear.” She almost seemed to be smiling. “I do believe that Miss Rose has intended to start a certain... _type_ of courtship with you.”

Weiss choked.

Her mother removed her hands from the flower box, turning to face her daughter. “I think that it’s quite hilarious that in order to receive the message you’d have to come out here to spend time with me, is there something you wished to tell me earlier?” Her tone was teasing.

Weiss knew why Ruby put the flowers where her mother would be, knew it was because she could sense a strange tension between Willow and Weiss, and hoped that they might have been able to overcome it. It was a devious little trick, and despite herself she felt something warm flare up inside of her chest. 

_What a little pest._ Weiss thought fondly.

“Well.” She began, aware of the fact that her mother would lose the teasing look on her face when she revealed exactly why she had come onto the balcony. But there was no changing her direction, no softening the blow, if Weiss didn’t tell Willow the truth it’d be disastrous, nothing good would come from a hidden truth. “Not right now, exactly.” She looked down at her shoes. “Nothing you’d want to hear anyway...” Weiss closed her eyes. “I just got a call from Winter.”

“You said.” Her mother responded, and Weiss didn’t have to see her to know that she was raising an eyebrow.

“They’ve found him.”

It was silent, and Weiss felt something heavy settle over them, a great shroud of gray clouds burdening itself crushing their shoulders. _No_, she wanted to scream, _no this can’t happen again_ _how dare she even_—!

“I see.” Willow said, and there was that quality to her voice again, the hitch of her tone that meant that she was shutting down, retreating. “I suppose this means you will go and fight?”

Weiss forced her eyes open, and they blazed in the type of determination that had been instilled in her since she was a child. “I will not be dissuaded.” She said, her words were strong, an oath to be sworn to herself as much as to her mother.

Her mother was covered cold again, her face stony as she adjusted her signature red scarf. There was something different in the way Weiss felt about that, the aloofness that her mother was so effortlessly projecting. It unsettled her, the way that emotion seemed to just slide off of her mother’s pale features. She looked like a statue, only instead of trying to invoke life in their work the artist did their best to make it so you would look upon their creation and feel nothing. So that you would see the humanoid thing they created and know that only something divine or hellish could ever look so lifeless. 

There was something about that look, that distinct air of nonexistence that bother Weiss dearly, more than it did before. She was no stranger to her mother and the way she used her expression to unsettle others, but she’d never felt so affected as she did in that moment. Was it perhaps that she had been growing fonder of her mother? The idea made her feel ill, it wasn’t as though there was nothing redeemable about the woman who gave birth to her, but that was just it—all Willow had seemed to do was given birth to her, hardly had she lifted a finger to care for her children, hardly had revealed any love for them.

(At least, not since she had turned ten.)

But her mother had changed, hadn’t she? She was still a drunk, still wasting away in that garden, but she talked to her children now—she was there for them in her own way. Weiss cursed her soft heart, she’d allowed herself to believe that her mother might care for them loudly—might proclaim her fondness in sentences of grand devotion with no room for interpretation. 

But her mother had always been a quiet woman, always been much subtler than Weiss felt she ought to be.

“I know.” Willow sighed, and something made her face contort into a different expression then before. Her brow furrowed, mouth every so slightly pursed—almost as though she was worried.

How strange.

“Goodbye, Mother.” Weiss said, “I’ll return when the deed has been done.”

“Yes.” Willow huffed, reaching for the closed wine bottle, “I suppose you will.”

Weiss looked at her mother’s face for a long moment, trying to remember the way her lips appeared without the stains of wine, knowing that this might be the last time in a long while she’d be privy to the sight. Then, without further prompting, she spun on her heel and walked back inside.

* * *

Weiss was doing something slightly rash, and entering the warehouse where her father was held up. Well, it wasn’t _exactly_ a stupid action, only that Weiss was entering the building alone, but it wasn’t as though there wasn’t back up waiting for her or anything, team CVFY had managed to make it in time and the Ace Ops were getting along with the Happy Huntresses long enough to serve as a good plan B. Not to mention those mercenaries she’d managed to track down who’d needed very little convincing to help when she told them what she wanted them to do. That, of course, didn’t stop Winter from tearing into her through their comm units.

The building that her father was apparently hiding in was rusting and tall, most of the windows broken and graffitied. Weiss smiled, a tight lipped thing, but a smile nonetheless. She didn’t actually expect her father to be in the warehouse, but she readied Myrtenaster anyway, it wouldn’t do to go inside unprepared. She opened the large doors, hesitantly walking forward, lifting her rapiar just in case she’d have to fight someone off again and allowing glyphs to form at the base of her feet just in case she needed to make a hasty retreat.

Weiss halted, noticing a tall, slim man standing in front of a shattered mirror—trying in vain to adjust his tie. Now wasn’t that a surprise, she thought, lowering her weapon slightly but still keeping it trained on him.

“Oh, you’re actually here.” She interrupted his primping, frowning a little while staring at her father in thinly veiled shock, it wasn’t as though she expected the lead to actually go anywhere. Weiss took him in, analyzing him with curious eyes. 

He looked better than the last time she had seen him, it was a drastic change, considering that the previous time she’d laid her eyes upon him had been in a jail cell. He looked all the business tycoon he was before, designer suit and shiny shoes—his hair slicked back and his facial hair groomed to perfection. Not for the first time, she wondered if the reason she and her siblings were so vain was because of the obvious care her father constantly put into his appearance.

(Only where Winter, Whitley, and her attempted to look nice in a good looking sense, her father seemed determined to make himself look as slimy and intimidating as possible. Typical rich business man chic.)

“Hello, daughter.” The lighting of the warehouse they were in made his eyes, similar to her own, look too bright and sickly—a stark pale blue compared to the colors of the area around them. 

(Sometimes, when she looked in the mirror, she could’ve sworn she’d seen the same look on his face reflected on to her own—her inheritance from a man with cruelty imprinted deep inside of himself, written in his very DNA, seared into his very bones. There was a wolf in his smile, much like her own, only his was far more bloodthirsty—far more used to tearing into the gentle flesh of the innocents that he continuously feasted upon for nothing more than the quick flash of temptation that often followed greed.)

“You’ll have to excuse me for my surprise.” She spoke conversationally. “See, the thing was I didn’t actually expect you to be _dimwitted_ enough to stick around.” Weiss brushed a bit of hair from her eyes, her gaze being careful not to leave her father’s too long limbs—just in case he decided to do something she’d have to defend herself against. “I mean, you’ve done many things that are distinctly unbrilliant in nature, but I did so hope that you might have been smart enough in this case to avoid the one child that has no qualms in killing you themselves.”

It was true, while Whitley and Winter certainly had no issue in seeing him dead, they probably would hesitate for a second or two. Whitley would decide not to, perhaps to make someone else do it, and Winter would manage to finish the act, but no doubt she’d deal with some sort of demon of her own creation afterward. Weiss, on the other hand, had a steady blade—and she certainly had no reservations when it came to the deed itself. If she had to kill the man, so be it, she was sure she wouldn’t lose a blink of sleep over it.

(After all, she had much more pressing physiological issues that hindered her rest, daddy issues didn’t fall under the top five list of most hindering problems, it didn’t rank there by far.)

“Ah, my daughter, how you've wounded your father so—where’s my hug? My ‘hello, Father, it’s so wonderful to see you?’” He asked, his voice fake and chilling. “I thought I raised you with better manners than that, darling.”

“Oh, you disgust me.” She sneered, revulsion so obviously making its home across her facial features. “And you disgrace yourself with your games.”

“Do I?” He pondered, straightening his tie and turning away from her, to look in a mirror. He pet at his hair, pushing back the handful of stray white hairs that had begun to unslick themselves from his gel infused hairdo. “I don’t believe that to be true, my darling Weiss. But then again, you’ve never really had an eye for the bigger picture.”

Weiss could barely believe that words like that were actually coming out of his mouth, did he even understand how hypocritical he sounded? Her lips curled into a nasty smile. “That’s the slightest bit hypocritical, coming from a man like you, someone in your position doesn’t have the luxury of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Perhaps.” He admitted, tilting his head as though pretending to hear her words. It made Weiss sick to see him like that, a dictator playing at ambasador. (It made her much more nauseous when she realized that she recognized that expression on his face.) “Though I am proud to say that I’ve learned from my mistakes, can you say the same?”

“Oh that’s rather _hilarious_, isn’t it? Considering as time went on I made less and less mistakes... though the same can’t quite be said for you, can it?” She snarked back, she was so fed up with her father’s games, but somehow she’d always managed to fall right back into playing them. “I do so feel as though what you said just now should be my line.”

“Well, we are father and daughter, perhaps we could share it.” He suggested, almost playful, turning back to face her. His eyes were colder than before, and the steady swoop of triumph warmed her chest—she’d knocked him off balance, his aloofness was so obviously an act now. He never was the subtlest person in the world, after all.

“I have trouble believing you’d truly wish to share anything with me.” She said softly, though nothing could disguise the steel in her voice, the harshness and a willingness for the righteous act of ending the conflict of her blood once in for all. 

Weiss would not falter.

“Perhaps you are correct, too bad.” He hummed, his curving frown full of malicious disapproval. “I did _so_ wish that you might be willing to be cordial with me, a Schnee is never _not_ cordial, after all.” There was a nasty twinkle in his eye, the harsh glare of snow on a sunny day—and the imagery that followed the sight of him made her stomach churn in discomfort.

Weiss eyed him for a moment, allowing her shoulders to relax. “Funny that you should say that, considering that you aren’t much of a Schnee at all.” She added, her tone calm, almost conversational—as though she was making small talk with a stranger instead of conversing with the lackluster excuse of a father. “Though it is adorable how desperate you cling to my grandfather’s name... to make up for something, perhaps?”

“The experiment, Weiss.” He said after a moment, his tone hard. “Give it here.”

She barely bit back a laugh. “That’s quite the demand there, Jacques, do you have anything to offer me?”

He raised a brow, but the twitching of his mouth was an obvious sign of annoyance. “What?”

“Well,” She began, “I think that if you want something of mine you ought to have something to trade for it, after all, I do _so_ enjoy mutually beneficial transactions.”

The look on his face was quite obviously murderous.

“Oh, shall I clarify for you?” She asked, using his temporary silence to get a couple more hits in. “I should have known all the time in prison libraries would have given you brain rot, see what I meant was that since you clearly have _nothing_ to offer me, why in all of _Remnant_ would I help you? It’s not as though I would _gain_ anything from assisting you. Honestly, I thought you had a better sense of business than _that_.”

“I don’t have time for your games you silly girl, now hand it over.” He frowned down at her, his shoulders straightening as he drew himself to his full height. 

She wondered what he sought to gain from such a pitiful attempt at intimidation. When she was younger it may have worked, she may have retreated into herself all the meek little princess he’d been hellbent on making her become, but now she had faced the claws of monsters—now she had faced the burning pain of weapons and teeth and all sorts of nasty little things that had been so keen on tearing into her flesh.

So no, she was decidedly _not_ intimidated.

“You don’t have time for _my_ games?” She raised a brow, wondering if he realized he’d repeated something that she had earlier said to him, wondering if he realized how alike they sounded. “I did wonder why you’d decided to stay in this place, why you hadn’t fled yet.”

“Have you drawn your no doubt _incorrect_ conclusion?”

“Perhaps... However, I know that whatever I come up with you will try and debunk, whether it’s the truth or not simply doesn’t matter—only making sure that I was wrong is what you’d care about.” Weiss explained to him quietly.

“Oh? How enlightening.” He sneered sarcastically, “Unfortunately for you—”

“See?” She interrupted him, gesturing to his body with an exasperated expression on her face. “I was correct. Anyhow, you won’t be receiving what you want, so I’m giving you two ways to leave this place—handcuffs, or a body bag.”

“Now, now, I won’t be doing any of that.” His mustache twitched as his mouth flattened into a thin line. “The experiment, Weiss.” His eyes, so much like her own, seemed to shine with malice. “I know you brought it with you, I know you have it.” Her father pulled out a piece of tech, similar to the one that the mercenary had given her. “Now give it here.”

“Really, the fact that you seem to think we’re close enough to do each other favors is remarkably oblivious of you.” She crossed her arms, jerking her chin upward and leveling him with a stern glare. 

“I—” Jacques cut himself off, blinking bewilderedly. “What?”

“I mean, if you’re under the impression that I’m allowing you to choose anything besides death and imprisonment you obviously are in for the shock of the century—I can wield a _sword_, what can you do? Shit talk until your reinforcements get here? Honestly Jacques, you really should’ve _learned_.”

“What are you intending to do here exactly?” He scoffed, puffing out his chest and framing his arms behind his back, trying to make himself taller then she was. (Which, admittedly, wasn’t that hard—the effort he put into it was entirely unnecessary.)

“Well, either you choose to leave with me now, or I stab you with this until you resemble a pin cushion.” Weiss shrugged lethargically, her expression the kind of lazy confidence she knew put him on edge. “It’s your decision of course, I won’t lose sleep either way.”

“My daughter, so strong.” His words were slightly mocking, the tang of his distaste in her obvious after years of actively trying to avoid it. His words were infuriating, and it took everything that Weiss had inside of her not to immediately do something rash. 

“I’m _hardly_ your daughter.” She said her teeth clenched, her knuckles whitening around Myrthenaster’s hilt. It would be so easy to just end it here, to bring her rapier forward and just finish everything—to destroy whatever was left of her father and his delusions. 

“Oh please.” He scoffed, as though the words that came from her mouth were genuinely unreasonable, as though she was just some inconvenience. “Don’t bother with that... we both know that nothing will change the fact that I molded you into the woman you are today.” Her father scoffed, adjusting his cuff links as he eyed her, gaze lingering on the tight grip she held her weapon in. “A pest with an unfortunately well working brain.”

“Must you?” Weiss asked, a snarl on her face. It was as though he was purposely trying to rile her up, get her to move forward—to attack him. That’s when it occurred to her, that must be _exactly_ what he was doing, he was trying to get her to forsake common sense, to jump into a trap like she did all that time ago, when the experiment had first branded itself into her aura. She scowled, if that truly was his intention she’d have to tread carefully, there was no doubt now that this was a trap—and for a moment she wondered if he was even actually there, if this wasn’t some hollogram or illusion.

She almost smiled, and considered throwing something at him to see if it would hit him or not.

“Yes.” Jacques answered her question, not quite noticing her careful deliberation. “It’s quite simple, darling, give it back to me—what you _stole_, and I would happily leave you be.”

Was that how he saw it? Did he genuinely seem to think her a thief even though the only reason she had been infused with his experiment was because she had been trying to _destroy_ it? She almost laughed at the thought, she couldn’t help but begin to wonder what that made him in his own eyes—the man who so earnestly took things from people who genuinely needed them, a cookie cutter corrupt businessman without any original ideas that didn’t have to do with blatant cruelty and hurting others.

“Oh must you accuse me of such things?” She asked, eyeing him with exhaustion taking root deep inside of her. It was startling how clear things were when she was facing him, how different the two were. 

_What a strange thing_, she thought, _to think myself cut from the same cloth of him when he was so far away, but believe in our wholehearted difference the moment I lay eyes upon him._

Her father may be similar to her when it came to certain things, their cunning and ambition, but it was clear that he was the mutation of something far worse than her. She didn’t quite know whether or not to be relieved or disappointed, on one hand she was almost nothing like her father when it came to the moral darkness, but on the other—the man who had fathered her, who had been supposed to love and protect her, was a wicked excuse for a human being.

“Well of course, you _stole_ something from me, what else would I do?” He looked almost genuine then, as though he absolutely believed every word that he had said.

“Yes well, _you_ stole my childhood from _me_ and you don’t see me branding _you_ a thief.” Weiss snarked back, but her heart wasn’t quite in it. She... she found that she didn’t want to fight him, not for some absurd moral reason like ‘oh he’s my father I can’t!’ It was more the type of not wanting conflict with someone so exponentially _stupid _ the idea of stabbing him wasn’t satisfying because she knew that he would never learn from his mistakes, that he was totally irredeemable.

And then she knew what she had to do.

(She was rather glad that Winter had brought in back up, random Atlas soldiers and police officers, and she was also glad that she’d convinced her to allow the mercenaries she’d hired to join in. Weiss knew that _they_, at least, would relish in the chance of utterly destroying Jacques Schnee.)

“Give me the experiment, Weiss.” Her father said, lifting a hand toward her expectantly. “Give to me and I will leave you and your little friends be, no more attacks.” He smiled invitingly, but it was far too parasitic an expression to be more than repulsive. 

The gall he had, the sheer nerve that he possessed to try and pretend to make _peace_ with her. No more. She thought. She’d have _no more_ of it.

“As tempting as that sounds, the people that you’ve hurt deserve retribution.” She said, lowering her rapier. This was his trap for her, she realized, he did not expect her to bring anyone to fight with her, to fight for her. He had a trap prepared for her and maybe any friends she’d been convinced to bring along, but he certainly didn’t have anything for _random_ people.

“Those filthy commoners? Please, all they deserve is what they work to earn.” 

_Ew_. Weiss thought, now she knew for sure that she was definitely nothing like her father.

“And I suppose you’ve worked to earn all of this?” She gestured to the rusting warehouse mockingly, “Your lack of power and skill? Your lack of any real money to pay people to do what you want?”

He ignored everything she said except the first question. “In a way, yes I did indeed work for everything around me, I am still working, and I know that it will soon pay off in my favor.”

“How selfish of you.” Weiss scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, I was raised in quite a different environment then you were, darling—you can’t expect me not to come out of that without a few scratches and scars.”

“Oh, _you_ want to talk about scars?” Weiss said, shooting him an incredulous look. She wondered for a moment if he was joking, but then decided his sense of humor was far too underdeveloped for something like that. Still though, his words made a flame of rage scorch up inside of her, and she knew that if she continued talking to him she would only grow more and more angry.

“Sore spot?”

“You know what? I’m done.” She pressed her hand to her ear, calling the mercenaries she’d employed. “You can do what you like now, be sure to tell my sister what you’re doing, I don’t want her to do something rash.”

“You got it, boss!” A voice affirmed happily.

“What are you _doing_—” Began her father, but Weiss had had enough of him trying to do things that he shouldn’t. 

She braced her palm in front of her, summoning glyphs and encasing him in a large circle of ice, with her on the outside. Weiss wasn’t going to fight him anymore, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make sure he didn’t have a hell of a time trying to get away from the consequences that snapped at his heels like hungry dogs. He wouldn’t escape this time, she thought venomously, allowing her aura to extend outward and freeze the ground and ceiling. He wouldn’t manage to flee from what he bid on himself, from the outcome of his villainy. 

The doors behind her burst open, the sounds of whooping making her inwardly roll her eyes. She spun on her heel, making her way toward the front—only to be met with the masked face of a female bear faunus. Even though her face was obscured, Weiss could tell that she was grinning ear to ear. 

“Hey there, princess.” She readied her combat knife. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought a little extra company, a couple of my friends wanted a crack at him.”

“I genuinely do not care.” Weiss said. “As long as there’s a body to identify afterward, I will be happy, whether it’s a breathing one or not is relative.”

“Cold.” The bear faunus laughed. “I dig that.” She turned to the crowd of people, mostly more fauns, and waved them in. “C’mon lads! Let’s go rock his shit!” Another roar of approval before they were surging forward, dodging Weiss and their boss to get to the large walls of ice that encased her father. 

“Good luck.” Weiss said simply, beginning to make her way out.

“Ah, wait a sec.” The woman said, digging into her pocket and pulling out a coin. “This is basically a buy one get one free deal, you ever need anything else, take it to my guild and turn it in if you ever need to contact me again... but it’s a one time thing, okay? Only call in that favor if it’s an emergency.” Her voice was serious. “I’m a professional, ya know? Can’t always be givin’ out freebies.” 

Weiss glanced down at the golden coin, it had an eye engraved into it—the pupil painted a soothing forest green. She stared at it for a moment, rubbing her thumb across it’s slightly warmed metal, and nodded her head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, princess.” She gestured to where her small mob of people were watching a young man with curly orange hair use flame dust to slowly melt the icy walls. He grinned, and Weiss noticed that there was a rather large burn climbing up from his neck to his chin. “It’s made their day, after all—it’s not all the time you get to kick the crap out of a rich asshole who deserves it.”

“You do have a point there.” Weiss sighed wistfully.

“Oh, and angel, do you mind if I make a suggestion?” The woman asked.

“I don’t.”

“Morals are all well and good once in a while.” She explained, “But in my line of work that gets pretty skewed, and I’m guessing it’s the same for you.” When Weiss nodded, she continued. “I want you to know that if you ever fuck with the lower class, you won’t only have people like the White Fang gunning for you.” Something in her brown eyes flashed, and she wiggled her bear ears. “Excuse my unprofessionalism, but someone ought to remind you once in a while, just in case—oh, and it’d be pretty fuckin’ awesome if you updated requirements for the managers of those blasted mines, ‘cause it’s still a little shittier then it has to be.”

“I’ll look into it.” Weiss promised solemnly.

The bear faunus watched her for one heavy moment, her eyes were surprisingly serious—this woman seemed as though the type to hardly take much of anything too seriously. Another second passed, before she nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, you will, won’t you?” She snorted. “You’re weird like that, Schnee, it’s not everyday you silver spoons do shit that doesn’t benefit them.” Her mask shifted, and her eyes crinkled—Weiss assumed that meant she was smiling. “Don’t be a stranger, angel—oh, and do me a favor and patch things up with your girlfriend if you haven’t already.”

Weiss frowned. “I don’t see how that’s—”

“Oh don’t fault me for that.” The woman moved forward, turning back once to shoot her a wink. “I happen to be a bit of a romantic, ya know? If I get a chance to make sure someone knows they’re loved I’m gonna take it—bye, now! Take that coin to the guild if you ever need anything!” And then she was surging forward, joining the crowd that had just managed to knock down the icy walls that Weiss had made for them.

“What a strange woman.” Weiss muttered softly, mindful of the woman’s faunus ears, sounding more thoughtful than she ought to be. She smiled, a slightly incredulous thing, before she turned back around to exit the warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly at this point the unnamed bear faunus should be an original character with an actual name but i'm lazy so her face and back story are a mystery, all you have to know about her is that she has the most brain cells in her merc guild, is a bit of a romantic, and she has professional courtesy. also, she likes knives and thinks that ruby and weiss look cute together
> 
> "In her mouth lived a wolf, but even often monstrous as they were they could be elegant creatures, beautiful in the face of their bloody maws." is a really metal line and i'd like to take the time to point out that sometimes i can come up with stuff like that, and so is:
> 
> "I am the cold, I am the snow, I am the chill of winter and wrath—the fiery warmth of love would only snuff out in the face of my frozen fingers, of the frost that smothers my soul.
> 
> You are the heat, you are the warmth of sunlight and hot coals, the feverish and impulsive hope of summer—the cold of self-hatred may survive some time inside of you, but know that it is melting away with the frost that you say blankets your soul."
> 
> hahaha guess who's been reading poetry again? this gal!!!! anyway, i felt like Ruby's pov is so rare i needed to go super hard with her prose,,,, and also her gayness, because most of the shit she thought was HELLA gay,,, also i'm touch starved on a regular basis and that's been ampe up because of the quarantine
> 
> it's me.... one day after i'm done with this version of the fic, and also with the edited version i have planned, i'm going to go back and find all the accidentally metal lines i wrote and stuff 'em in some sort of poetry thing,,,, mayhaps i will do it with all my accident poetry,,, who knows? certainly not me


	13. would you please be mine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her mother wasn’t looking back, because this wasn’t a fairytale, because if there had been an immediate happily ever after between them her mother would apologize—would do something symbolic like through the wine bottle off the edge, a physical interpretation of something that she was going to do. But she wasn’t looking back, which meant that she (a daughter, her daughter) had one chance to make her turn before it felt as though their relationship would be lost to the night sky forever.
> 
> A traitorous voice in the back of her mind told her that wouldn’t be so bad. Everything would go back to normal, see? Everything would stay the same, the bond between them spun up in the stars for only them to see, only them to touch but never change. Wouldn’t it be great? The voice asks. Wouldn’t it be so great to see your relationship with her in the stars? To see your mother’s smile in every curve of a constellation? Wouldn’t it be oh so great?
> 
> No, she thinks back, because she is right in front of me, and she is not changing—but I can help her do it, I can.
> 
> If you insist, whispered the voice—cruel and unsightly. But when you fail, do not come crying to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is kind of a filler, so it's like a tiny bit shorter then usual lmao.... honestly i suck at filler chapters but they are very much necessary, this took me too long to write smh,, oh and what happens to weiss' dad is up for u to decide, personally i think he's dead i decided for a bit of ambiguity, you know? so like, whatever u wanted to happen to him in the show happened!!! yay!!! also this is barely edited pls excuse mistakes i'm tired lmao

Weiss knew objectively that things would change once the news broke that her father had been either violently beaten to death or captured with excessive force, but for some reason it didn’t quite sink in until she saw the results on the news. It hits her then, in the bold bright red and white lettering across the screens, with her father’s name and his fate so obvious and plain as day plastered across news stations everywhere. That’s when the realization comes, that's when she knows that her father won’t be a problem anymore, that there was nothing he could do to change her life for the worse. It was a sobering realization, the type that grounded and steadied her. She could live her life now, she didn’t have to fear him—didn’t have to watch her back for him every single second of every single day. 

That type of freedom was almost alien to her by now, and Weiss hadn’t known how much she’d missed it until her father was gone.

The mercenaries and the soldiers and all of the friends she’d made that were able to come had congratulated her—well, they rushed a little, seeing as most of them were rushing into the warehouse to help as soon as they realized that her father had managed to booby trap the place. Weiss almost turned and walked back in to help, but realized that it would be a little overkill—between team CFVY, the Ace Ops, and the Happy Huntresses—everyone would be fine. But it had been a near thing, with her struggling over the barest desire to help—something that hadn't been quite stamped out of her over time.

That’s how she ended up back at the hotel that she’d been staying in, after a thorough tongue lashing by Winter about ‘rushing into danger’ and ‘not being so stupid all the time.’ Weiss understood her sister’s concern, but couldn’t muster up much of an appropriate response before Winter was ordering one of her soldiers to escort Weiss back to her temporary abode. 

It showed how tired she was when she didn’t object.

When she walked inside of her room, she found the television screen on, her father’s name in breaking news, and almost began to weep. The reporter pulled no punches, the story scathing and cruel and downright dripping with disdain from every syllable that left their mouth. Weiss would have it no other way, would not wish for them to soften the blows that came with what had happened at the warehouse. And through it all she could only think one thing again and again, the relief a bitter taste in the back of her throat and churning her stomach.

_It’s over. It’s over. It’s over—_

A shuddering breath escaped her lungs, and she rubbed at her face in an attempt to gather herself. She almost didn’t know what to do with herself now, so much of her time spent worrying over her father, so much of her life spent wasted trying to fight him. There was a gaping hole inside of her, one that had always been there—one that had never been full, but somehow she was just beginning how empty it actually was. It felt as though she could leap inside of it and find herself never hitting the bottom, an open crater in her soul so very obvious and large that she could spend lifetimes never making any progress.

Bitterness surged up inside of her, a choked laugh of disbelief escaping her mouth, and found herself looking up at the balcony that jutted out of her hotel room.

Her mother was still there.

Something cruel danced gleefully down her spine, a feeling of dread that had long since familiarized itself with her. It was most definitely a surprise to see her mother there, Weiss had honestly expected her to retreat to her area maybe an hour or so after she’d left. After all, her mother had admitted to her (however accidental her confession was) that one of the only reasons she sat out there was to be closer to Weiss.

She took another attempt at inhaling more air, her lungs kicking up a fuss at the lack of it, but couldn't quite find herself able to breathe properly. Weiss almost stumbled over her own feet in an attempt to get to the balcony, the strange stroke of clumsiness not lost upon her. It almost felt as though she was desperate to see her, desperate to look upon her mother and hope for something (anything) to happen. Her hand went to the glass door, her breath escaping her mouth in soft puffs of white, and she moved forward. She slid it open, and looked—but her mother did not turn to face her, swirling a near empty bottle in her hand.

“So your father, then?” Her mother asked, leaning back into the chair, she hadn’t moved an inch from the last time Weiss had seen her.

A strange stroke of indignation painted it's way into her at the realization. Had she seriously not moved? It felt as though Weiss could leave for days and return, only to find her mother sitting there, as still and silent as ever—the only movements taken the tip of the wine at her mouth. She watched her, watched the stains on her mouth and the lipstick prints on both the wine glass and bottle. Weiss had known that her mother wouldn’t be sober when she returned, but it was still a punch in her churning gut. A shuddering sigh escaped her lungs as she closed her eyes, trying to get the image out of her mind even though she knew it was no use. After all, it was hard to ignore something that was right in front of you.

“Yes, Mother.” Weiss said quietly, leaning against the glass doorway and watching the way her mother’s fingers drummed absentmindedly on the neck of the bottle of wine. There were no scars on any of her thin palms, no blemishes—only the odd wrinkle or so that betrayed her mother’s age. Weiss looked down at her own, still shrouded in silk gloves, and wondered for a moment if that was how they could’ve ended up looking had she not chosen her own path.

“Wonderful.” Her mother sighed out, wrapping sliding her fingers down the wine bottle until they gripped the belly, lifting it to her mouth and sipping it before setting it down again. Her movements were fluid, as though she’d done it millions of times before. Weiss berated her surprise, this was her mother _of course_ she’d done it a million times. 

“Yes, Mother.” Weiss’ voice left her lips freely, but there was a brittleness to her tone—almost as though it could be held in her hands, easily pulled apart and falling into oily clumps of anger and bitterness at her feet.

Her mother raised a brow, inhaling through her mouth and releasing a sigh so tired and resolved that Weiss for a moment forgot that she was speaking to Willow Schnee, a notorious alcoholic. It was as though her eyes were instead laid upon her mother, old and exhausted, in morning for a man who had never truly existed—betrayed and bitter... so much like Weiss could have been. It was like a statue had suddenly decided to get up and start moving, so tired of the display of a museum.

Her mother's fingers idly began to drum on the neck of the wine bottle once more, and Weiss recognized the nervous tick as something she often saw in Whitley. How strange it was, that they were so alike. It almost made Weiss smile, if her brother had to choose one parent to copy, subconsciously or not, then she was thankful it was her mother. (Because at least her mother used to be someone worth copying.)

“So you’ve succeeded, then?” Willow asked, her voice subdued in a way that wasn’t usual. Her mother could be quiet, sure, but there was an underlying sense of unease and vulnerability in her words—hesitation seemed to dribble from her mouth instead of words. “In stopping him?”

“Yes, Mother.” Weiss said, nodding her head. She wondered where she was going with this line of questioning, but in the end she was much too tired to care. There was still this desperation deep inside of her, a wanting for her mother to do something—to bring her in, draw her close. The childish sentiment that had faded when she realized her mother was never going to leave the gardens without a bottle of wine on hand returned full force. The desire clenched her chest in rough hands, ridges of dry and scarred skin irritating the gentle beats of her 

Something in Willow’s eyes darkened at the sound of her affirmation, her eyes narrowing to slits as she looked Weiss over critically. “Are you just going to keep saying ‘_yes, Mother_’?”

Weiss, in a _not_ so rare moment of open defiance, opened her mouth and said: “Yes, Mother.”

The silence that suddenly enveloped them was cold, but Weiss knew that (just this once) her shattered aura was not to blame. Her mother watched her, her gaze lingering over her scars and the dark bruised under her eyes. There was a flicker of something on her face, a subtle change—the purse of her lips betraying how affected she was at the sight of her tired daughter, covered in injuries that had long since scarred over.

“Rude.” Scoffed Willow, but there was a strange aspect to her tone of voice, and then she was looking away.

“Yes, Mother.” Weiss repeated. She wasn't exactly angered by her, but that didn't mean she wasn't the slightest bit annoyed at her mother and what she was doing.

“Ugh.” Her mother placed the wine bottle down on the small table next to her, sighing out loud and running a tired hand through her hair, undoing the loose ponytail she’d tied it in. Her hair fell in loose waves, and all of a sudden she could see the resemblance between them all. 

Weiss felt herself staring. The movement was strange, tired and informal, almost as though she was looking at a real person instead of the statue her mother had molded herself into. A single motion had humanized her, the obvious notion of exasperation and slight annoyance was enough for Weiss to remember why she was still even trying to speak to her. She wanted Willow to do something. (Wanted her to do anything that proved that she had cared for her even in the slightest.) 

“Was there something you wished to discuss?” Weiss asked her quietly. “You’re still here, I thought that you’d be back in your rooms by now.”

“I...” Her mother paused, unsure. “Yes.”

“Oh?” Weiss asked, raising a brow. She crossed her arms, leaning in the doorway and staring at her mother expectantly, her attention not faltering.

Willow rolled her eyes in response, as though Weiss’ movements were more dramatic than they actually were. “No need for _that_, darling, I'm really rather done with your theatrics, besides I know it must seem...” She paused, struggling with the words. “Out of character.”

“That’s certainly one term for it.” Weiss murmured quietly, though not soft enough for her mother not to hear.

“Regardless,” Willow continued, ignoring her. “I only wanted to check in on you.” 

Weiss froze. She’d hoped and she’d wished, but she long since abandoned the thought of her mother genuinely expressing concern. Her eyes flickered to the bottle of wine, a great deal emptier then it had been before. She took a breath through her nose, shutting her eyes tight to gather herself before looking her mother in the eye once more. “I’m honestly rather fine.” It wasn't exactly a lie, but anyone close to her would be able to hear the half-truth where it was.

Her mother watched her, her gaze critical and accessing. Weiss didn’t know whether or not she hoped she found what she was looking for, but she did know that having Willow act like this was strange enough for her to shift uncomfortably where she stood. “I see that now... I feared that you would be—”

“What happened to him is not worth shedding any tears over, what’s done is done, and I would never wish to change it.” Weiss raised a hand, interrupting her easily, her voice calm and resolved. 

Willow snorted. “My daughter, so cold.”

“My mother, so warm.” Weiss shot back sarcastically.

“Ah, I think I deserved that.” She laughed, though it was brittle—a gentle sounding admission of defeat. She looked out at the Atlas skyline, watching as in the darkness light glittered beautifully—the shattered moon shining against a backdrop of the stars. 

“A bit, yes.” Weiss agreed.

“Do you suppose...” Her mother trailed off, adjusting her red scarf and sighing into the slightly scratchy looking wool. She closed her eyes, trying to start over what she was saying. “It would be best if I apologized, I think.”

Weiss’ lungs stumbled over themselves, and it took everything in her power not to crumple to the floor right then and there. Her eyes went from the wine bottle, stained with purple lipstick prints, to her mother’s mouth, stained with the red of the alcohol. Weiss knew right then, no matter how much she wanted it, no matter how many times her mother apologized, it would mean nothing in the face of _this_ —of her issues and the problems that helped tear their already deteriorating family apart. “That depends.”

“On?” Her mother asked.

“Are you sober right now?” Weiss asked, already knowing the answer.

A deep breath. “That isn’t fair.”

Anger bubbled in her chest, and if Weiss had any less control over herself, over her aura—she may have frozen the entire building in her righteous indignation. 

She loved her mother, she had loved her—loved the way she used to tell them fairy tales, loved the way that she had cared for them, loved the way that she had used to make sure that her father was there for their birthdays even if they hadn’t wanted him there. She had loved her mother, loved the effort that she had used to put things into, and despite Weiss’ disappointment as a child, despite being able to see the rot that had taken hold of their family from the inside out—she had _loved_ her mother with everything she had. 

But then she turned ten, and her mother had spiralled into an oblivion so alien to Weiss, had taken her family (her children) by the hands and tore them apart alongside their father—whether she had meant to or not. Her wrong doings (even if they were accidents, even if they were not meant to) had breed resentment deep inside the hearts of her children. Bitterness had been one of the building blocks of Weiss and Whitley’s personalities—young and easily impressionable, even Winter who had been older than them had fallen victim to the fiery inferno of indignation that had seized all of them like a storm.

Just because her mother was sorry didn’t make it any better, just because she confessed regret didn’t mean she was changing in any way. At the end of the day, her lipstick still smeared against glass and wine still stained her mouth and tongue. 

“It’s _perfectly_ fair, it’s _beyond_ any margin of fairness.” Weiss said, her voice like steel—there would be no bending of the truth, no altering of the situation around them. Weiss had battled one parent today, she was not averse to adding another.

“Not with me, not if it’s now.” Willow said, and it was almost as though she was pleading with her daughter—pleading with her to understand, to grant her leeway. 

And Weiss wanted to, wanted to give in, but she knew that nothing would change if she did—she knew that they would be trapped in that same cycle of suffering. She had to stay resolved, stay strong in her choice. She had to pick a path and stick to it, to not look back—to move forward with no regret. “You wanted to check on me... you wanted to apparently apologize, but all you seem to be doing is making things _worse_.”

“I _am_ sorry, Weiss.” Her mother says, voice tired and small—so unlike what she sounded like before. It was enough to give her whiplash, Weiss had expected a fight—had expected a grapple for control of the situation. She had _not_ expected for her mother to apologize, to sound so very _defeated_.

“I don’t...” Weiss rubbed at her neck, looking away and shutting her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at her for much longer, the stains of lipstick and wine a blight on the otherwise gentle atmosphere of the balcony. “I don’t know if that’s sincere, you have to understand that, right?”

A loaded silence filled the air, before her mother was sighing, and Weiss didn’t have to look at her to know that she was turning away from her. “Yes.”

It must’ve been a poetic sight, Weiss thought distantly, mother and daughter looking away—eyes only for the stars and the moon and the night, not for a second their gaze drifting to the other for fear of wrenching open something sacred between them, for destroying the delicate peace they had managed to create. It would be easier, she thought, if she had left well enough alone. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t allow herself to be sucked into the void—seeing her mother and consciously blocking out the sight of the wine on her lips, the slightly slurred words and the heavy bags under her eyes. Weiss had already lost so much time doing that, having fights with her mother about anything and everything but the obvious problem in front of them.

She looked at the flower box for a moment, resolving herself. Ruby’s hyacinths danced in the cool night air, and Weiss summoned up the last reserves of her courage as she did what she’d rarely done before, and turned to face her mother.

Her mother wasn’t looking back, because this wasn’t a fairytale, because if there had been an immediate happily ever after between them her mother would apologize—would do something symbolic like through the wine bottle off the edge, a physical interpretation of something that she was going to do. But she wasn’t looking back, which meant that she (a daughter, _her daughter_) had one chance to make her turn before it felt as though their relationship would be lost to the night sky forever.

A traitorous voice in the back of her mind told her that wouldn’t be so bad. Everything would go back to normal, see? Everything would stay the same, the bond between them spun up in the stars for only them to see, only them to touch but never change. Wouldn’t it be great? The voice asks. Wouldn’t it be so great to see your relationship with her in the stars? To see your mother’s smile in every curve of a constellation? Wouldn’t it be oh so _great_?

No, she thinks back, because she is right in front of me, and she is not changing—but I can help her do it, I can.

If you insist, whispered the voice—cruel and unsightly. But when you fail, do not come crying to me.

“Please, Mother,” Weiss started, her voice more choked up than she had been expecting it to be. “I don’t know what you want from me—from any of us—but I know that drinking your life away certainly isn’t any way to get it.”

“Your wisdom sobers me, Daughter.” Her mother said, and the joke struck Weiss as in poor taste.

“Not funny.” She could barely utter the words.

Her mother turned back to face her, something strangely familiar in her expression. It struck Weiss then that she had always been looking at a wall, always been face to face with great big protections that could not afford to be lowered. It was only a glimpse, a brief and hesitant lifting of a mask. It was almost like the end of a masquerade, when you stumble across someone you know and for them to lift their mask, grinning ear to ear sheepishly as if to say, _you caught me_.

“It would’ve been, if you knew a proper joke when you heard one.” Willow said, and her face was back to the way it was before. 

(Only it wasn’t, because now that Weiss had seen what had been shown to her, now that she knew where to look, her mother’s face seemed to change drastically with every twitch or wrinkle. Weiss could see her mother, actually see her... and wasn’t that so ironic? That she had spent so much time wishing to be seen when it turned out she was the one doing the seeing? Her mother, so much like her and her siblings, the desire to be noticed without being properly noticed—the desire to be known while obstructing every attempt made. And _oh_... they were _similar_ weren’t they? All of them as a family... so very similar.)

“No,” Weiss said, “I still don’t think it’d be very funny.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Willow uttered quietly, and her head twitched, as though she was trying to look back at the sky but couldn’t quite tear her eyes away from her daughter. “No... I know you’re right, aren’t you?” Her words were wistful and soft, and for the first time it wasn’t as though Weiss was swimming in honey just to get to what her mother really meant when she talked so silently, but like her voice was caressing Weiss’ cheeks—a gentle reminder that she was there.

She didn’t know how to respond, the admission of her mother lingering in the atmosphere, lodging her throat closed as she couldn’t help but stare. It wasn’t anything of real substance, wasn’t a promise or an oath or even an, “I'll try for you.” But it was _something_.

(And in the end, that was all Weiss had ever really asked for.)

* * *

The call came a week after the confrontation of her parents. Weiss was busy, despite everything that happened she still had a company to run, especially now that her father was effectively snuffed out of the future. It was safe to say that many of the more bigoted stock owners were selling some or all of their shares, and a lot of people (who had been afraid of getting caught up in the Schnee family drama) were buying them up. It was a massive headache, especially considering the fact that she still had to deal with the renovations of Schnee manor.

Though, Weiss was considering turning it into something else, the family didn’t need everything in that place—and as far as Weiss was concerned the only things worth saving were her grandfather’s things, the grove of apple trees, and the library. (Whitley would never forgive her for getting rid of that last one.)

She had been sitting at her temporary desk, drumming her fingers against her half done paperwork, and then her scroll had begun to ring.

“Hey, Weiss.” Blake said as soon as she answered. Her voice was a soothing balm on her overworked mind, and she couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at the interruption.

“Hello,” Weiss managed out, tiredly rubbing at the skin under her eyes. “Have you seen the news lately?” She asked through a yawn, leaning back into her chair and blinking away the spots in her eyes.

“Everything gets to Patch a little later.” Blake said softly, her voice suddenly more subdued.

“I figured.” Weiss rubbed at the back of her neck, pausing for a moment to roll her shoulders. She grimaced when they made popping noises, focused back on the call. “I thought you’d appreciate the surprise.”

Blake let out a little laugh, the sound making Weiss’ lips twitch upwards. “Your father is... well, you know already, you were there, weren’t you?” She heard her friend sigh over the scroll, and a twinge of worry made Weiss tense slightly. “He is... certainly not a good man.”

“You can call him what you like.” Weiss said with a snort, turning her head to look out the glass doors of the balcony. Her mother hadn’t been there all day, and it surprised her how accustomed she’d grown to the picture of her mother staring out and looking at the Atlesian skyline. She turned away, closing her eyes tight. “Heavens know I’ve called him much worse over the years.”

“Well, yes, but I feel like anything I could say about him would never be bad enough to fit him.” Blake quipped.

She couldn’t help the soft laughter that escaped her mouth. “Very funny.”

“I was actually calling to congratulate you on that.” Blake informed her, and the voice she used was almost strange, as though she was worried for her. It was completely understandable, but that didn’t mean Weiss didn’t bristle slightly, she hoped that her father wouldn’t be a taboo topic between them in the future. “I also wanted to tell you that what happened to your father came at a pretty good time.”

“And why is that?” Weiss asked, not being able to help the raised eyebrow despite the fact that Blake most definitely couldn’t see it.

“...Yang and I... well.” Blake tripped over her words, something that was rare. 

Weiss frowned, it didn’t _sound_ like it was anything bad, but there was a nervousness in her friend’s voice that Weiss hadn’t heard in years, not since Blake and Yang had first started getting involved. It only took a moment longer for her to realize, and an almost nasty smile rose to her lips in response as she relished in the obvious embarrassed silence radiating from the other end of the call.

“Oh, so one of you finally put a ring on it?” Weiss asked, the grin on her face a strong, unfaltering thing. “It’s about time you two finally made it official.”

“Please don’t.” Blake managed out, a groan in her voice.

“Wait, who proposed first?” Weiss asked with malicious glee, ignoring her. “I have to know, I’ll never forgive you if you don’t tell me.”

“We... kind of...” Blake began through a grumble. “...did it at the same time?”

“Blake...” Weiss began, trying not to laugh. “Please don’t tell me you’re joking right now.”

“I’m not joking.” Blake said, before warily asking, “Why?”

“Well,” Weiss started, “if you simply _must_ know—Sun, Neptune, and I made a bet—”

“ _Weiss Schnee_!” Blake exclaimed incredulously, disbelief dripping from her voice.

“—and if you two dimwits _actually_ did that Sun and Neptune owe me so much apple pie—”

“Weiss, _shut up_!” Blake hissed.

She thought that it was almost a shame that she couldn't actually see Blake’s face at this moment, Weiss thought that it might have been a nice treat after being so stressed lately. She laughed softly, leaning further back into her chair and allowing herself to relax. “..._fine_.” Weiss sighed overdramatically, “But only because you asked so very nicely.”

“Your sarcasm is noted and very much not appreciated.” Blake retorted, her voice going back to normal. 

Weiss felt herself smile, she was genuinely happy for her friends. She wondered what it must have been like for them, to finally begin the discussions of marriage before proposing to each other at the same time like two very in love disasters. “Well, congratulations.” Weiss said softly, “And I _do_ mean that—no sarcasm.”

“Thank you.”

“So how did you two end up proposing at the same time?” She asked curiously, not being able to bite back the question. She couldn’t help but wonder how that happened, did they do it in some fancy restaurant? Or perhaps a gentle and intimate moment where they both got on one knee and laughed about it afterwards? One thing was for sure, she thought, it must’ve at least been romantic.

“...No.” Blake said firmly.

“You aren't going to tell me?” Weiss asked, raising her eyebrows, making her voice sound wounded and slightly pitiful. “One of your very best friends?”

“No.” She repeated, with more force this time.

Weiss snorted, pressing a hand to her chest and sighing out loud. “Wow, my hurt is immeasurable right now, I couldn’t be more distraught.”

“Weiss.” Blake said, sounding more than fed up with what was happening.

“Right, right, ‘the sarcasm isn’t appreciated’ I got it.” Weiss rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. She couldn’t help but wonder why Blake refused to tell her what happened, but understood that it wasn’t as though she could force her to talk about it.

“That’s because it isn’t.” Blake interjected. “Your sarcasm is never appreciated.”

“Ah, so mean.” Weiss sighed out.

“I can say the same about you.” She shot back.

Weiss made a face, pursing her lips. She sort of walked straight into that one. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“Oh you _suppose_?”

“How so very hypocritical of you.” Weiss said with an amused smile, though her brows were furrowed ever so slightly.

“Right, sorry, sarcasm is my reaction to most of the things that come out of your mouth.” Blake said, not sounding very apologetic. 

“_Blake_.” Weiss bristled.

“Sorry not sorry.”

She huffed out a laugh, “You’ve been spending too much time with your fiance.”

“...oh.” Blake murmured, voice quiet.

“What?” Weiss asked, worried if she’d said something insensitive.

“Yang’s my fiance now, huh?” Blake asked, her voice airy and wistful. She sounded entirely too overwhelmed, as though she couldn’t quite comprehend the turn of events that had led to her being engaged. It was a very soft side of her friend, one that made her briefly pause.

“Yes.” Weiss affirmed for her softly, before deciding that a little bit of teasing would not go amiss. “Are you going to have a stroke about it?”

“I hope not.” Blake said, not quite answering her question.

“I think Yang would appreciate it though, she’d probably say something really stupid.” Weiss puffed up, preparing for an imitation, “‘Oh _wow_, babe, you really had a heart attack for me, huh? Guess I really do make your heart skip a beat.” She paused. “Well, maybe after she was done making sure you were alright.”

“That is _not_ what she sounds like.” Was the muffled protest.

“Oh please, don’t lie to me.” Weiss scoffed, “What’s that, babe? You’re tired? Well try not to dream of me, I’ve been told I’m a dreamboat and I know you might get sea sick—”

“Weiss!” Blake exclaimed, the shock in her voice only the slightest bit insulting.

“Don’t worry you’re always running through my mind, it’s only fair that I run through your dreams right?” Weiss continued, more out of spite than anything else.

“Weiss! Oh my goodness, _be quiet_!” She said this, but Blake was beginning to lose control of her laughter, the sounds slipping from her mouth and into Weiss’ ears. “Oh no, that’s exactly something she would say, isn’t it?”

“The brute would come up with much worse, I assure you.” Weiss agreed with a grimace.

“You’re probably right...” Blake sighed, her voice was fond. She coughed after a moment, an embarrassed sound that most likely stemmed from the fact that she’d allowed herself to sound like that in front of her. “You sounded nothing like her.”

“As though you could do any better.” Weiss protested.

“She’s going to be my _wife_, I think I might have an idea of what might come out of her mouth.” Blake said, faltering slightly at the word ‘wife.’ She was slowly but surely starting to get used to the idea, it was almost cute, seeing Blake so caught up in the idea of marriage to Yang. Only kind of, mostly it made Weiss want to throw up a little, but that was her issue.

“Well of course, but can you sound like her while doing it?” Weiss asked, crossing the arm that wasn’t holding the scroll around her stomach.

“Sure, ‘hey, Ice Queen, someone's looking pretty chilly, need a jacket or something?’ there I did it.” Blake said calmly, her voice deadpan and not sounding like her fiance in the slightest. 

Weiss let out a bark of laughter, “That was a _terrible_ impression, absolutely _horrendous_.”

“Was not.” Blake protested.

“I’m not going to argue with you on this.” She conceded, blowing a bit of hair out of her eyes and then pinching the bridge of her nose. 

Weiss couldn’t quite help the silly smile that worked its way onto her face, she liked talking to Blake—liked talking to all of her friends—but there was always something refreshing about talking to Blake in particular. They’d always been similar to each other, they’d always had similar mindsets and habits—even if they were both reluctant to admit it. Even so, Weiss knew that for each thing they had in common, they had a differing personality trait.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’d win.” Blake commented easily, and Weiss couldn't help but wonder if she was smiling.

“Blake.” She sighed.

“Not sorry.”

“_Blake_.”

A gentle laugh tinkled over the scroll call, making Weiss roll her eyes. “Right, well, I just wanted to invite you over to a little dinner party thing this weekend...” Blake trailed off for a moment, “We were going to get all the family together and tell them then.”

Weiss frowned, what did Blake mean by that? It struck her then, like a punch in the gut, that she might’ve been one of the first ones to know about Yang and Blake’s relationship development. “Wait, who knows you two are engaged?”

“Just you and Ruby so far.” An awkward silence. “And everyone who was at the movie theatre when it happened.”

“You proposed to each other at a _movie theatre_.” Weiss clarified, her scroll nearly slipping between her fingers. “Blake? A _movie theatre_? Was it at least romantic? Did you at least—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She cut her off suddenly, her voice unreadable—a clear indication of embarrassment.

“What do you mean you _don’t_ want to talk about it—”

“Anyway, will you be able to come?” Blake asked, once again interrupting Weiss.

“Yes.” She huffed, crossing her arms.

Of course she would be there! It shouldn’t even have been a question, not only was Weiss apparently the second person (she decided not to count the crowd at the movie theatre) to find out about the engagement, but Blake and Yang were her _friends_. There was nothing in the conceivable universe that would keep Weiss away from congratulating them. Maybe it would be a different story in the past, but at that moment in time Weiss had a chance to be surrounded by the people who cared about her utterly, why would she pass that up in favor of a cold Atlesian hotel?

There was the issue of her mother, of course, but Weiss knew that Willow would be fine for a weekend without her. Or at least, she hoped she’d be—Weiss had enough faith in her that she should be able to survive without one of her children nearby, but she didn’t know if she could pull it off sober. Especially considering her mother had never made any promises to lay off her wine.

“...you agreed really quickly.” Blake murmured after a moment of thought. “I figured you’d need a bit more convincing, it is short notice, and with what happened, well...” She trailed off again, letting Weiss fill in the blanks.

“I always make time for the important things.” Weiss said quietly, her voice earnest and soft—something she hadn’t meant for it to be.

“Oh, and we’re the important things now?” Blake didn’t sound sarcastic, only surprised—as though Weiss dropping everything to be there was a genuine question. Weiss wasn’t offended, she understood how Blake could be unsure, especially after the recent turmoil with her father.

“Of course.” 

“...oh.” She coughed out. “That’s... thanks, Weiss.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Weiss furrowed her brow, pursing her lips.

“I’m not, I’m not!” Blake assured her. “It’s just nice to have a reminder every once in a while.”

“I’m sure.” She said, rolling her eyes.

They talked for a little while longer, catching up and exchanging banter. Even though Weiss easily had more material when it came to teasing, Blake certainly _did not_ pull any punches. By the end of the call her ears were bright red, face flushed and righteous indignation burning in her chest when Blake let _another_ comment about her and Ruby’s relationship slip.

Weiss realized sometime later that even despite the overwhelming embarrassment, she’d truly found herself enjoying the call.

* * *

Weiss found herself flying to Patch that Thursday night, she arrived in the early morning, irritated and twitchy from the flight. She’d managed to get some sleep, but there was something about being in the air that made it hard for her to relax. The war was over and done with, and her father would no longer be bothering her, but that didn’t mean that trauma induced instincts would suddenly leave her. After all, most of the times she traveled (whether it be by air, ship, or even train) often went awry one way or another—from Grimm attacks to nosy reporters, the universe seemed united in turning her against all forms of travel.

Luckily, when she stumbled out of the airport, she was met with the beaming (if slightly drowsy looking) face of Ruby Rose. Weiss nearly tripped over her carry on, blinking for a moment, as if the vision in front of her was a hallucination and if she closed her eyes enough it would fade away. Blake had neglected to mention that Ruby would be the one to pick her up, probably assuming that it would be a given. In retrospect, it probably should’ve been obvious—of course Ruby would be the one to pick her up, Blake and Yang wouldn’t want to get up early. Still, Weiss couldn’t help but feel pleasantly surprised 

“Hey partner.” Ruby greeted, her smile a mile wide. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been two weeks since the last time I saw you.” Weiss pursed her lips. “You called me every other day.” Not all of their conversations had been very long, Ruby was still very much an active huntress, but it was definitely enough for Weiss to begin to count on them. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that it was super long.” Ruby said, pouting a little. “Like, super duper long.”

She let out a soft breath, unable to help her smile. “Too long.” She agreed, eyes softening at the sight of her partner. Because that’s what they were, partners. They always would be, Ruby had said it so earnestly and Weiss had had no choice but to trust in her wholeheartedly. It became her belief there would always be something that intertwined their fates together, forever and always.

“Too long.” Ruby repeated quietly, her smile dimming and a much more tender look slotting in where the sun had shone. “I missed you.” She took a step closer, hesitantly—as though she was unsure if it was okay to come near.

Weiss’ heart swelled, “I missed you too.” She murmured, slowly moving forward, unable to muster up the strength to draw Ruby near, she reached for her hand—intertwining their fingers together. 

She thought that their joined hands had the potential to be an odd metaphor—the way their auras mingled together, intermingled and mixed with each other so thoroughly that when they stood too close sometimes she couldn’t tell where her soul started and Ruby’s ended. Weiss’ palm was still shrouded in silk, but the rough warmth of Ruby’s hand was enough to make her hair stand on end, something in her stomach fluttering.

Ruby smiled, looking down at their joined hands, “Awesome.” She beamed back up at Weiss, “Now let’s get back home!” She started to gently tug Weiss toward a slightly rusting old orange truck, and Weiss had no choice but to follow, a smile on her face all the while. 

The drive to the house was calm and silent, the only sounds the odd humming tune or so from the slightly static filled radio. Ruby would hum along to a tune or two, the sounds leaving her voice disjointed and lacking any real flow. Somehow Weiss couldn’t find herself getting annoyed, only charmed and slightly exasperated by the woman next to her. Despite the lack of conversation, the air wasn’t awkward or stilted—the two of them were very comfortable in the silence, and nothing seemed to be able to change that.

They only started talking when they finally pulled up in the driveway of the old cabin. 

“So your dad, huh?” Ruby asked softly with a raised brow after turning off the ignition. The truck rumbled to a stop, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel while she shot her a curious look. Weiss would be a liar if she claimed that she wasn’t relieved by the gentleness in her beloved's expression, as though Ruby was willing to drop the topic if asked.

“Yup.” Weiss nodded her head, her hands twitching as they methodically smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt.

“Cool.” Ruby noted, reaching out a little to settle her hand against Weiss’, stopping the fidgeting.

“Yup.” Weiss said again, her fingers freezing a little as Ruby intertwined them with her own. She stared down at their joined hands and couldn’t help but squeeze Ruby’s palm a little. 

“You just gonna keep saying yup?” Ruby asked, tilting her head and smirking. Her hand was warm, sending a stream of fire through Weiss’ veins. There was no ignoring the sudden swoop in her stomach, the sudden burning of her ears.

Weiss fought the urge to puff out her cheeks, averting her gaze. “..._no_.” She mumbled quietly, feeling an irrational burst of embarrassment course through her body.

“Nerd.” Ruby said fondly, smiling at her. She lifted Weiss’ palm to her mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her gloved fingers before smiling mischievously. It was almost too much for her, press of Ruby’s lips to the pads of silk clad fingers—it was certainly enough to fluster her.

“Please don’t call me a nerd.” Weiss managed out, her voice strangled. 

“Nerd.” Ruby repeated, winking.

Two could play at that game, she thought, and looked up at her through her eyelashes. It had been a long time since she’d actually given that _look_ to someone, but Weiss knew that even though she was out of practice her partner would hesitate over it. “Ruby, _please_.”

Ruby coughed, cheeks blotchy and flushed. Her eyes shone with something, the redness in her face spreading throughout her ears and down her neck. There was something distinctly charming about the expression on her face, and when Ruby used the hand that wasn’t holding Weiss’ to cough into her fist—a look of fondness managed to wrangle it’s way out to the forefront of her face. Well, that was until Ruby opened up her mouth to say, “..._Nerd_.”

“I can’t believe I’m attracted to you.” Weiss sighed, taking back her hand to bury her face in her palms. All that ‘smoldering’ for nothing, if Ruby was still able to render herself coherent then Weiss had clearly lost her touch. 

A shame, she’d clearly have to find a way to get it back.

“Aww.” Ruby cooed, “You’re attracted to me, that’s embarrassing.”

“I’ve literally had my tongue in your—”

“That’s not what you were supposed to say!” Ruby flushed badly, looking as though her brain was short circuiting. “You were supposed to say we were together or something, _not_ give me a heart attack!” She crossed her arms, pouting. “Besides, that was a long time ago, so it doesn’t count.”

Weiss rose a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Um.” Ruby shifted in her seat. “Yes?”

“Oh.” Weiss sighed forlornly, “That’s really too bad.” She flicked a bit of hair out of her face, leaning away from her. 

Ruby didn’t move, but her eyes followed Weiss’ movements with a strange type of urgentness. The flickered from her eyes to her hands, settling on where she had brushed back the white blonde locks of hair out of her face. She swallowed, and averted her gaze. “What do you mean by that?” Ruby asked tentatively after a moment.

Weiss watched her, smiling a little coldly. She was teasing, but that didn’t mean she had to be nice about it.

“Um.” Ruby said, beginning to panic.

“Relax.” Weiss soothed after a moment, smiling much gentler than before. “I’m only playing.” 

“Hahaha.” Ruby laughed, “I totally knew that.” She nodded her head rapidly, “Totally... knew that.”

Weiss frowned, hesitantly scooting closer to her. She wanted to comfort her, wanted to ask if she had taken it a tad too far—but she didn’t know what to do, how to help. She swallowed, looking down at her hands before deciding to slip off her gloves before unbuckling her seatbelt. Her scarred palms inched forward, and the pads of her fingers reached up to Ruby’s face and idly tapped the dimples in her cheeks. 

“Please don’t be sad.” Weiss murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you frown.”

Ruby lifted her head, watching her with wide eyes. “You didn’t... I wasn’t...” Her cheeks flushed. “I was only kinda embarrassed.”

Weiss smiled, brushing her thumbs up her cheeks, rubbing at the spot under her eyes. “Okay.” She dropped her hands, the feel of Ruby’s skin suddenly too much, when she felt Ruby grip her wrists gently. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the palms of her hands, one at a time.

Weiss swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She could hardly bear the feel of Ruby’s skin on hers, her mouth pressed to the scars of her hands. It brought back memories of before, memories of the war and the way that Ruby had cradled her used hands in her palms. She could hardly bear to feel her touch, too warm and too searing—a burning pressure in her body that just would cool down.

And Weiss refused to keep quiet about it, about the fear that it caused.

(If she did that was only proof that she’d never changed, that she and Ruby still weren’t ready no matter how hard they tried and no matter how much they had matured.)

“Ruby, I was thinking.” Weiss began quietly.

“Always scary.” Ruby quipped with a smile, letting go of Weiss’ palms to shoot her finger guns, her attempt at lightening the mood succeeding. 

The fondness that began to curl in her chest was criminal, and she couldn’t quite help the soft sound that escaped her mouth as she spoke. “Beloved.” She tried to chastise, though it sounded more adoring than anything else. 

“Sorry, continue.” Ruby laughed, running a hand through her hair as her smile turned parts sheepish and crooked. 

Weiss leaned back, trying not to appear as captivated as she felt, and focused on what she wanted to say. Ruby needed to hear it, and Weiss needed to voice her thoughts out loud—but it was so hard when Ruby was looking at her like that, as though she was something worth seeing. It had been a long time since someone had looked at her like that so obviously, and the sight of it was enough to make her lungs trip over themselves—enough to make her heart squeeze and stutter.

“I’m...” Weiss shook her head, averting her gaze and trying to untie her tongue. I’ve never been good at intimacy, and I just—well, I wanted...”

“It’s okay.” Ruby said, smiling her oh so breath stealing slanted smile. As though to prove her point, she leaned backward, her shoulders straightening as she looked Weiss right in the eye. The curve of her lips was genuine and gentle, and for a moment it felt as though all time had stopped. “We can go at this slowly, with whatever you need, I’ll always be content with whatever you have to give.”

“That’s all well and good, Ruby—but I just wanted to let you know that...” She trailed off, gathering her thoughts for a moment. Weiss knew that Ruby would be alright with what she had to say, but nervousness built up inside of her anyway, churning her stomach and making her heart beat faster. “Well that I want to touch you sometimes but I don’t know how to ask, and that even though the desire is there sometimes I can’t act on it because physical touch can... be off putting.”

“Oh.” Ruby said quietly, her eyes going wide and her mouth parting for her words. “Oh gosh, Weiss, I’m so sorry if I did anything—”

“You’ve been fine.” She hastened to correct her here, she couldn’t bear it if Ruby thought that she had done something wrong. “And it isn’t as big as a problem as it sounds, I’m fine with brief touches... or even, _eh-hem_—” She flushed, coughing into a fist and averting her gaze. “—_prolonged_ touches with those I... _care_ for.”

“Okay.” Ruby said, a pleased grin on her face.

“I just wanted to let you know, so... just in case I do something, or I don’t reciprocate something... so that you know that it isn’t you.” Weiss explained quietly, rubbing at her cheeks in an effort to get rid of the blush that had begun to take root there. 

“You're talking to me about it.” Ruby said in realization, her eyes shining with something Weiss couldn’t place. She grinned, fidgeting excitedly in her seat, a tiny happy dance making her shoulders and elbows jerk outward.

“Yes.” Weiss frowned for a moment, crossing her arms and doing her best not to look so incredulous.

“Awesome.” Ruby sighed dreamily, she shook her out of her thoughts, blushing brightly at Weiss’ raised eyebrow. “Oh, um... I noticed something, and I dunno if you wanna talk about it but I wanted to point it out just in case.”

“What is it?” Weiss asked, concerned.

“I... er, sort of noticed that you had a hard time saying the word... um, love.” Ruby winced, as though she expected some bad reaction from Weiss for saying it.

“Oh.” 

“It’s not a bad thing, Weiss.” Ruby rushed to clarify, spinning a little to face her more fully. “I just wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with me, uh, telling you that _I_ love you, ‘cause I do, ya know?” Ruby blushed, looking rather sheepish, but didn’t stop talking—her mouth moving a mile a minute. “And I don’t want to make it hard for you, or make you feel bad just in case you can’t say the words... I don’t need them so often, see? I already know you love me, ‘cause you told me... and I just wanted to make sure that you knew you could talk to me about it, if you wanted.” She fidgeted. “It’s one of those things that goes without saying—”

“I’m in love with you.” Weiss blurted, not quite being able to restrain herself a moment longer. She’d said it before, but it never seemed to get any easier—it was almost as though there was a strange pressure to the words, as though every time she said them she had to make them count. She hoped that wouldn’t stay the case forever, she loved Ruby and wanted to be able to say it outloud as many times as she could.

“Oh.” Ruby stumbled over her words, a dreadful blush on her face. “Er, that’s nice.”

Weiss exhaled an amused puff of air, a smile painting itself on her lips. “And thank you for your consideration... I’m not so free in my... proclamations of affection and—” She took a breath, “—and I want to be better... at that.”

“I think you’re wonderful.” Ruby said suddenly, her voice soft and slightly abrupt. The tenderness in her expression was unmistakable, and Weiss felt her heart squeeze at the sight of the look on her face.

“I...” She paused, taken aback. “Thank you, Ruby.”

Her partner blinked, the flush that was in her cheeks returning at full force. “Wait, did I say that out loud?” She squeaked out, her brain short circuiting. 

“Did you not mean to?” Weiss asked, an amused noise escaping her mouth as she raised an eyebrow.

“Ummmm.” Ruby started, fumbling over her words and not quite continuing. 

“Have you been holding your tongue, Beloved?” She pursed her lips together, shooting her a half amused half disapproving look.

“Noooo...” 

“Ruby.”

“...maybe.” She sighed, crossing her arms and looking out the window. It was kind of cute, watching her sulk with a pout on her face—but Weiss didn’t like the fact that Ruby felt like she had to not say certain things around her.

“You don’t have to do that...” Weiss said after a moment, her voice quiet. “You can tell me anything.”

“It’s nothing bad, Weiss.” Her expression was earnest, her eyes smoldering like fire—the sight causing odd flames of want to lick at Weiss’ cheeks, enough to start a terrible blush. “It’s just if I start telling you how much I love you, I don’t think I’d ever be able to stop.”

“Ah.” She barely managed to hide the squeak that Ruby had reduced her voice to. “I see.”

“...are you alright?” Ruby asked, and it wasn’t exactly teasing but there was definitely a note of amused fondness in her voice. “Your face is getting kinda—”

“I’m fine! I’m fine, really! I just... it’s nice... hearing such things from you.” Weiss confessed guiltily. A cold ball of _something_ sat in her stomach, churning her emotions anxiously and causing a great deal of hesitance. She felt like a hypocrite, being able to enjoy what Ruby was saying to her but unable to return any of the verbal affection. It felt different, saying nice things to Ruby—felt more loaded, more important—and Weiss didn’t quite know how she should feel about that.

She felt as though she should be able to love Ruby at least one way, should be able to either hold her or tell her—should be able to profess how she feels in one way or another, and doesn’t understand that Ruby can see it in other actions she takes. She just can’t comprehend how the woman she loves knows that she is loved. And it’s because of that Weiss must find a way to show her that she understands, she must come to learn what Ruby sees and knows and feels—because without that she doesn’t know what might become of her and her anxious heart.

“Aww.” Ruby cooed, “But what’s with that frown?” She extended her hand, an offer for comfort that almost had Weiss weeping in the old seats. 

“I believe that is just my face, Beloved.” Weiss sighed out, trying to smooth out her expression, all the while placing her palm in Ruby’s own. 

“Nuh-uh.” Ruby frowned a little, squeezing her hand gently. Once again, liquid fire seemed to run up her arm at the sensation, and Weiss wondered for a moment if she should keep her gloves off for a little while. Surely if she was having such responses to a little bit of touching on her hands, then that meant perhaps she spent too much time in gloves, and now her palms and fingers were sensitive. “You were smiling just a second ago, a real pretty one too.”

“I—I was not!” Weiss protested, blinking rapidly and trying to piece together the fragments of her thoughts. (It was hard, considering Ruby’s compliments had utterly destroyed any amount of her brain power.)

“Yeah you were, it was cute.” She laughed, tilting her head and beaming. Her smile was enough for Weiss to falter in her protesting, the sight beautiful enough to trip over her words.

“S-shut up!” Came out of her mouth, the embarrassed flush not leaving her cheeks. 

“Alright, alright.” Ruby giggled, “I’ll stop now.”

And Weiss, despite every anxious and embarrassed thought that ran through her mind, couldn’t help but to never want her to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha
> 
> family stuff, am i right?
> 
> anyway here are my favorite parts of the chapter
> 
> "She loved her mother, she had loved her—loved the way she used to tell them fairy tales, loved the way that she had cared for them, loved the way that she had used to make sure that her father was there for their birthdays even if they hadn’t wanted him there. She had loved her mother, loved the effort that she had used to put things into, and despite Weiss’ disappointment as a child, despite being able to see the rot that had taken hold of their family from the inside out—she had loved her mother with everything she had. 
> 
> But then she turned ten, and her mother had spiralled into an oblivion so alien to Weiss, had taken her family (her children) by the hands and tore them apart alongside their father—whether she had meant to or not. Her wrong doings (even if they were accidents, even if they were not meant to) had breed resentment deep inside the hearts of her children. Bitterness had been one of the building blocks of Weiss and Whitley’s personalities—young and easily impressionable, even Winter who had been older than them had fallen victim to the fiery inferno of indignation that had seized all of them like a storm.
> 
> Just because her mother was sorry didn’t make it any better, just because she confessed regret didn’t mean she was changing in any way. At the end of the day, her lipstick still smeared against glass and wine still stained her mouth and tongue. "
> 
> and
> 
> "Her mother wasn’t looking back, because this wasn’t a fairytale, because if there had been an immediate happily ever after between them her mother would apologize—would do something symbolic like through the wine bottle off the edge, a physical interpretation of something that she was going to do. But she wasn’t looking back, which meant that she (a daughter, her daughter) had one chance to make her turn before it felt as though their relationship would be lost to the night sky forever.
> 
> A traitorous voice in the back of her mind told her that wouldn’t be so bad. Everything would go back to normal, see? Everything would stay the same, the bond between them spun up in the stars for only them to see, only them to touch but never change. Wouldn’t it be great? The voice asks. Wouldn’t it be so great to see your relationship with her in the stars? To see your mother’s smile in every curve of a constellation? Wouldn’t it be oh so great?
> 
> No, she thinks back, because she is right in front of me, and she is not changing—but I can help her do it, I can.
> 
> If you insist, whispered the voice—cruel and unsightly. But when you fail, do not come crying to me."


End file.
